The Real Han Solo and other kotor oneshots
by Revan's Pet Duck
Summary: A collection of kotor oneshots ranging from comedies to angstfests and from starring Bastila to Mira to even Shen Matale. Updated March 12, 2007: In Dealing With Rejection and Abandonment featuring Carth Onasi and Juhani!
1. The Real Han Solo

Title: The Real Han Solo  
Genre: Humor  
Main Character(s): Canderous Ordo, Carth Onasi, Atton Rand, Disciple/Mical, Han Solo  
Rating: K/G  
Disclaimer: Kotor and all its characters do not belong to me. Han Solo doesn't either.

XxXxX

**The Real Han Solo**

"Alright stand in a line. Facing your right."

Canderous Ordo, Atton Rand and Carth Onasi all stood in a line, wearing plain civilian garments, the type much like most Jedi wear when they aren't in their cumbersome robes. All three seemed a bit annoyed at the whole situation. They already had to sit through hour long interrogations with this… unknown man who claimed he was from the future.

An eye roll threatened to escape each of the men's eyes as they were directed to turn to their left now. Atton Rand was seemingly sleepy and turned rather slowly. Behind him, Canderous Ordo snickered.

"I don't know where they picked up that any of us were supposed this Han Solo guy," the Mandalorian chortled.

"I agree with you on that," Carth Onasi muttered. "I'm the Paranoid Republic pilot, you're a fraking Mandalorian, and that kid there is an ex Jedi Assassin turned Jedi."

"Well he's supposed to be whipped by his Jedi woman so that gives each of you two a point," Canderous said, receiving scowls from both Carth and Atton.

"Turn and face the front."

All three men turned to face the front, their faces ranging from partially amused to downright annoyed. The men standing behind the glass, in a separate part of the room than Atton, Carth and Canderous observed them.

One was a scientific type, and his name was Mical. He observed the three men in front of him, having met all three previously, and then scanned the man standing to his own right whom he had just met earlier that day when he had come barging into Mical's office.

"_I heard that people have been comparing some riffraff from the past to me," the man had said. "Claiming to be the 'token Han Solo of the past generation'." The man glowered at Mical when he nodded without giving much of a care._

"_I am Han Solo and I don't like my name being disgraced by some fracking wannabes."_

So here Mical had called together Atton Rand, Canderous Ordo and Carth Onasi for questioning to see how similar they were to this Han Solo, as well as physically. It was clear that Canderous didn't look much like the lean figure of the real Han Solo, perhaps Atton did, possessing the same scruffy air that Han himself did.

Back behind the glass Canderous, Carth and Atton continued being observed, continuously feeling irritated. "Well he's not a bad looking guy so I guess that counts everybody but me out," Atton said slyly.

"Kid, you need better insults than that," Canderous replied with a slight eye roll. Atton scowled again. "He doesn't seem angsty like the pair of you. Hell, I don't even know why I'm here, I'm nothing like that weed."

"Blame him not us," Carth muttered under his breath. "Its not like any of us actually ask to be called 'the token Han Solo of the past generation'."

"Alright gentlemen, we're done."

"At least we don't have to deal directly with him like the Disciple," Atton pointed out. "Somebody got oversensitive at having their name spread around. Isn't that a good thing to be so famous that people like us get compared to him?"

Carth shook his head. "Not all of us are as arrogant as you." The three men trailed silently out of the part of the room on the other side of the glass and spotted Mical speaking with 'Han Solo'.

"So we're done?" Canderous growled. "Because I have better things to do."

The man that was apparently Han Solo scowled. "I want your word that you won't go around saying that you're the 'token Han Solo of the past generation'."

"Like we actually ask to be called that," Atton mumbled.

"We don't even know who you are besides that your name is Han Solo and what we've learned in the past couple hours from Mical," Carth said exasperatedly.

"Like that you're whipped by a Jedi woman like these two are and you're not exactly the Prince of Angst like those two are," Canderous added grizzly. "Now, I'm leaving, thanks." And without waiting for someone to bother stopping him Canderous strode out of the room and left the other four men behind.

Han stared at Atton and Carth. "You two?"

Carth shook his head and muttered something about needing to go back to Telos. He said a short goodbye to Mical before giving Han a look and leaving. Atton was left behind with Mical and Han.

"Get over it," Atton said briskly. "I wouldn't want to be dragged down by your name," he added with a smirk.

"I could kick your ass kid," Han growled.

"I'm sure you could," Atton's smirk widened as he pulled out his lightsaber and began tossing it up and down. "'Bye folks," he said patting Mical on the shoulder with a laugh. He never liked Mical, but he found it amusing to torture the kid when he could.

Han turned towards Mical. "So you questioned them?" At Mical's nod he continued. "And your research shows what?"

"None of them _want_ to be Han Solo," Mical said in a business-like voice. "Blame the fans."

XxXxX

Yeah I loved the idea but it ended up sucking in my opinion, but I decided to post it on anyways just for the heck of it. It was made for the 12th kotorfanmedia dueliong circle challenge, but nah…

So enjoy.


	2. Murderer

Title: Murderer  
Genre: Angst/Suspense  
Main Character(s): Atton Rand, Female Exile (Sienna Vaas)  
Rating: T/PG13  
Disclaimer: As usual, I don't own any of this. In fact, this time half of the dialogue doesn't belong to me either.  
Date written: October 10, 2005

**Murderer**

She noticed she was short. Well, much shorter than Atton anyways. She had to practically run to keep up with his brisk pace and long strides. Sienna mentally cursed the pilot as she rushed to catch up with him. She might have even considered using stasis on him, if it hadn't been for the current circumstances.

"Atton!" she called after him. She felt it was lucky that Nar Shaddaa was a crowded planet, and not many passerby noticed her shouts. "Atton, stop and talk to me!"

Sienna eventually gave up on trying to run by using normal means. She used a burst of the Force to speed her movements and stepped in front of Atton, stopping him in his tracks. "You can't avoid me forever, Atton! Tell me what happened. It can't be bad enough to make you run away." Her crystal blue eyes tore into his stone cold brown ones pleadingly, but he turned away.

"No," he replied sternly. "I won't tell you."

And before Sienna could even tell which direction he went in, Atton was gone.

XxXxX

Nar Shaddaa wasn't only crowded, it was dreary. At least it seemed like that in the Refugee Sector. Maybe it was only Sienna's mood. Sure, she argued with Atton all the time, fought countless and pointless fights with the man, and frequently became annoyed with him, but she appreciated his dry sense of humor, and actually felt rather flustered when she heard him arguing with the Disciple about her.

Sighing, Sienna sat down in the med bay. For some reason, as close as her bonds were with many of the others on board, she couldn't find herself to share a dormitory with them. It must've been something from her days as a Jedi, a _real _Jedi when she had her own bedroom and didn't share it. Even in the Wars, she had her own chambers. Being a General had certainly had its perks.

Taking off her outer robes, she decided she'd deal with the problem of telling everybody what happened in the morning. Sienna set the robes down on a table and yawned lightly. Everyday had been exhausting since she had returned to Republic space. She never even realized how tired she was until now.

There was a slight noise in the corridor outside of the med bay; Sienna assumed it was just one of the other crew members getting up to use the 'fresher. She stretched a bit before lifting up her bed sheets, preparing to crawl underneath and fall asleep.

A knock came from the door. _Who's awake at this hour?_ she thought to herself, checking her chromo and noticing how late (or, considering the time, early) it was. _Maybe it's the Disciple. He's probably looking for a medical text to read or something…_

Sienna reached for her robe and threw it on over her undergarments and leaned up against the door, listening with the Force. The aura felt familiar, but troubled, strange, rippled. _Who is it_? she thought again, touching the panel to open the door.

Standing in the doorway was none other than Atton Rand.

"Atton?" Sienna said, sufficiently surprised. The way he had left earlier, the way they had left things between them, she hadn't been expecting him to come crawling back. She almost felt bad about prodding him so much, actually, but… she wanted to know. And for some reason, she felt like she had a right to know.

XxXxX

_Sienna glanced at the two Twi'leks that had been speaking to her and then looked forward at Atton, who was scowling good-naturedly at the Disciple, who was looking at the Exile with his usual warm compassion for her._

"_Disciple, I'd like you to go back to the ship now," Sienna had told the young Jedi-in-training. "I need to talk with Atton. We'll meet you back there soon." Disciple looked a bit confused, but he nodded and turned to walk away._

_As the younger man's back disappeared from view, Atton looked over at Sienna, and smirked. "And why, may I ask, would you like to talk to me…_ alone _no less?" He raised his eyebrows suggestively, and Sienna gave a half smile and a hollow laugh._

"_Only in your dreams Rand," she stated playfully, starting to walk at a slow pace out of center of the Refugee Sector, towards an alley where she could talk to Atton without anyone staring. "I ran into a few people who know you," she said lightly, trying to maintain a conversational tone._

"_Did they say I owe them credits too?" Atton joked, a smirk playing on his handsome features._

_Sienna sighed silently, preparing herself up for whatever reaction the next statement would get out of Atton. "No… they said that you've been here before. That... I should be careful about you. Should I be careful?"_

_The playfulness vanished from Atton's eyes. They were halfway into an alley by now and Atton was practically glaring at her. "Is that what they said?" Sienna nodded. "Well, don't get too attached to me…" Before Sienna could even ask why, Atton answer her unspoken question. "It's because I'm a deserter, it's what I do."_

"_Can…" she hesitated. "Can you tell me something about yourself before I met you? I don't even know how you ended up in that cell back on Peragus," Sienna asked curiously. The 'deserter' comment struck a chord in her mind suddenly. "Did you serve in the wars? Is that what you deserted? Which war?"_

_Atton seemed a bit uncomfortable but answered her questions anyway. "Served in both of them. Against the Mandalorians, before and after Revan, and again... when Revan declared war on the Jedi."_

"_You were with the Republic… and then…" Sienna started, before fading off. Her eyes dawned with comprehension. "You fought with the Sith? You followed Revan with the Sith? You were Sith?"_

"_That's just a name - it's what we did that was important," Atton replied, not quite meeting Sienna's eyes. "What I did. Up until the Republic officers began to "betray" their oaths to the Republic and side with Revan - Admiral Karath, Mon Halan, General Derred, and all the rest." He was staring towards the left side of her face, studiously ignoring her gaze._

"_That was wrong… you answered war with war," Sienna told him, a tinge of the betrayal she felt playing in her defiant voice._

_Atton looked into her eyes, his own blazing with intensity. "You were a part of the wars! Don't act so innocent! You were at Serroco, when they turned the Stereb cities into glass craters. At Duro, when basilisk war droids rained like meteors onto the orbiting cities, and when the Mandalorians set fire to the Xoxin plains on Eres III - the fires that still burn._

"_Without the Jedi who turned on the Council - without you, the Republic would have lost the war, and we would all be Mandalorian slaves or corpses. Well, that puts us on the same level, doesn't it? Doesn't make your decision any more right than mine if you want to start sentencing me." He turned as if to walk off, but Sienna grabbed at his arm._

"_What happened after the Mandalorian Wars?" she asked demandingly. Atton tugged his arm out of her grasp._

"_Why should I tell you?" he growled._

Because I want to know! _she thought to herself. Out loud, however, she said, "If you're going to tell me what happened in your past, you have to tell me everything."_

_Atton's eyes narrowed further. "What makes you think you have a right to know everything about me?"_

"_If you're going to travel with me, I want to know," she demanded, gaze narrowing._

"_Then maybe you can find a new pilot," Atton hissed at her, but Sienna grabbed at his arm again and pulled harder. "Atton, tell me," she said, in a soft voice. It was so gentle, so vulnerable, that Sienna knew it couldn't have been her own, but it was. Atton stared at her for a moment, then sighed._

"_Alright… well, I followed Revan of course," Atton started evenly. "As a_ Sith _as you seem to want to stress. We knew where our loyalties lay - to the Jedi who came to help us, not the ones who sat back on Dantooine and Coruscant, watching us die. So when those same Jedi who watched us die decided to start fighting us during the Jedi Civil War, we fought back. I fought back."_

"_You fought Jedi?" Sienna asked, surprised._

_Atton almost looked insulted at her surprise. "I didn't fight Jedi, I killed them. A lot of them. I started killing Jedi. A lot of them." Sienna couldn't believe her ears. The man was almost_ bragging _about it._

"_How did you do it?" she asked, a disgusted fascination pouring the question out of her mouth._

"_People say killing Jedi is hard. It's not, you just have to be smart about it," he responded casually. "No blasters, no getting close to them, no attacking them directly when you can gun down their allies instead. There's ways of gassing them, drugging them, making them lose control, torturing them. I was really good at it._

"_What's worse," he continued, quieter now, "Is that killing them wasn't the best thing. Making them fall... making them see our side of it, that was the best." Sienna was seeing a different side of Atton. A blood-thirsty, angry… almost evil side. She had always seem him as lustful, but lustful for murder? For blood? She had never suspected him of that._

"_I taught myself... techniques. It's hard for Jedi to sense what you're really thinking if you throw up walls of strong emotions and feelings. Lust, impatience, cowardice... most Jedi awareness doesn't cruise beyond the surface feelings, to see what's deeper. And I was good at that, throwing up walls, and my superiors knew it. Sometimes the Jedi on our side wouldn't even realize I was there. Yeah, I had a talent for it. More like instinct. I wasn't the only one. I know you left at the Mandalorian Wars, so you don't know much about what went on behind the scenes in the Jedi Civil War. But Revan understood one thing - the real battle was going to be fought between the Jedi on both sides. That was the only battle that mattered. Whoever had the most, the strongest Jedi were going to win the Civil War. If Revan couldn't convert Jedi, then Revan would kill them. So Revan trained elite Sith units into assassination squads, whose duty was to go out and capture enemy Jedi. I was in one of the special units trained to do this. Well, it doesn't really matter what you believe."_

_Sienna almost couldn't believe what she was hearing. He had a_ talent _for killing people like_ her? _She was frightened alright. She was a Jedi, and she had fought in the Mandalorian Wars, she had faced the Sith, but could she face someone she had considered a friend? Could she face him if he wanted to kill her? She didn't know. All she could do was hope he wouldn't want to kill her._

"_So what happened? You deserted both times you said," Sienna reminded him, keeping her calm and cool composure, despite the emotions she felt boiling beneath._

"_One day I decided not to do it anymore, so I left. Ended up on Nar Shaddaa, became someone else." Atton stared right into her eyes, revealing what he wanted to reveal, telling her the 'truth'._

"_Why would you tell a Jedi you've killed Jedi?" she asked, sounding almost angry with him._ What if he killed someone I knew? What if he killed a friend of mine? What if I was once a target?

"_Because you've killed Jedi, too," he replied with a shrug and gritted teeth over her tone of voice. Sienna's raised her eyebrows in shock and annoyance and she was about to make an objection to his statement when he continued._

"_Different circumstances, but you have a bigger body count than I ever did. And I've been with you only a short time, enough to know that as soon as someone signs on with you, they haven't got long to live. You got history, and anyone who travels with you doesn't."_

_Sienna nodded her head reluctantly. "I… I still can't believe you killed Jedi. And you're telling me you killed Jedi! I'm a Jedi!"_

_Atton's eyes narrowed again, and he loomed over Sienna in a way that made her fear him even more. She could see him now, not Atton the pilot of the Ebon Hawk, but Atton the murderer, the one that killed and lusted to kill, the one that lived to kill, and would kill her too, if given the chance. "You know, I thought that you might not care, so I took a risk. I suppose you don't want me around anymore? Fine. I'll be gone."_

_He started walking away, his shoulders hunched over. "Why did you leave the Sith?" she called after him._

_Atton turned around, and he looked even madder, in both senses of the word. His hair seemed more messed up than usual, hunks of it standing up at odd angles. Sienna realized that he had been running his hand through it during their whole conversation. "You've already judged me enough Sienna Vaas, there's no need for you to judge me any more."_

_And with that he walked off._

XxXxX

And now here he was, at Sienna's door, before the sun would begin to rise over Nar Shaddaa's slums and sectors. He slumped into the room, and Sienna would've said he was drunk, except that his eyes seemed perfectly in focus, and she had seen him drunk before; his eyes were never this awake when he was inebriated. His breath didn't smell of ale either.

"I'll tell you," he said huskily, reaching his arms around behind Sienna. She felt a chill run up her spine. _Run, Sienna! Get your lightsaber! Do something to get him out of here! He's a murderer_! But he didn't attack her, he reached to take her robe off. Sienna's eyes grew wider.

"You'll tell me what?" she asked quietly, without a single ounce of fear in her voice.

Atton leaned down onto her, and she couldn't have stopped him if she had wanted to. Half of her really did want to, the half that feared him utterly and completely and wanted nothing more than to be rid of him. But the other half that had ignored their previous conversation, that only cared about Atton the scruffy pilot, not Atton the murderer, didn't care that he was about to kiss her.

"I'll tell you why I left," he said, before closing the space between them.

He told her the truth. He told her of how a Jedi, a female Jedi, had sought him out and showed him the Force. He told her of how disgusted and frightened he had been, and how he killed her for showing her the Force. He said he killed her because he loved her.

Then he opened himself to her. Atton didn't leave anything unspoken between himself and Sienna. He didn't leave her any chances to speak, occupying her time with himself, spending the next period of time not letting her out, not letting her leave his grip. Sienna didn't want to. Part of her still wanted to, but that half didn't control her senses. And that half was almost afraid that if she tried to leave she'd end up like the last Jedi.

She couldn't have said how she did it. Sienna wasn't experienced in what she and Atton were doing, and didn't know how she had unconsciously released her thoughts to Atton through the Force. The only thing she knew was that suddenly she felt a streak of rage shoot through herself that didn't originate from her. It came from Atton. _That other Jedi had said he was Force-sensitive. Is this what happens between Force-sensitives that interact like this?_

Her mind became cloudy and flooded with foreign emotions of fear and anger. A shooting pain hit her in the side and she felt tears sting in her eyes. Her vision blurred and pressing a hand to her side, she felt a sticky liquid dripping from it. _Blood._

Then Sienna saw Atton standing above her. "Is this what you've been planning all along?" she coughed out. "To use your techniques on me?" Blood was dripping from her mouth and her vision continued dying away. She tried to call onto the Force to heal herself, but it was too exhausted from her other activities.

His eyes searched her lustfully. "No," he snarled bluntly. "I hadn't been planning this. But you did this to yourself. You… you tricked me! You listened to me and exploited what you heard! You… you went inside my mind!" Atton was raging mad, screaming now.

Sienna wanted to make a comment about what Atton had gone inside, but she was too weak, and her life was fading quickly. "You did this that to yourself Atton," she hissed at him. "Stop blaming other people for your problems. _You_ killed _me_. Not the other way around."

She could see the real Atton as she lay dying. It was the Atton that was holding the bloody knife, with the gleam that lusted for blood lying within his eyes. It was Atton the Murderer.


	3. Home Sweet Home

Title: Home Sweet Home  
Genre: Drama  
Main Character(s): Mission Vao  
Rating: K/G  
Disclaimer: Hey! Yeah! These characters, and this plot? They're not mine. They're LucasArts and BioWare's. Go them! Go KotOR! Yay!  
Date written: September 13, 2005

**Home Sweet Home**

"Come on! Quicker! We don't want to die do we?"

It was loud with all the explosions around me. I couldn't see, though that might've been the tears stinging in my eyes. Every beam that hit the planet felt like it was hitting me. It was a strange effect and it hurt… it tore at my heart as I ran towards the _Ebon Hawk_.

I ran inside, following by Zaalbar. In front of me was Bastila Shan, the Jedi Alaanis had recruited me to help find. And look where that got me. It destroyed my home planet.

I heard the explosions still inside the ship as Alaanis' still body was carried by Canderous Ordo, the Mandalorian, into the med bay. Bastila Shan was running around and about and the small astromech droid, T3-M4, was beeping rapidly. Carth Onasi had already made his way to the cockpit and we heard his voice on the ship's comm. system saying we were lifting off.

Something inside me snapped. I turned around and tried to move past Zaalbar to get to the loading ramp. I wasn't going to leave Taris behind… it was my home! Carth told me it wasn't much of a home for a 'kid' like me. After yelling at him for calling me a kid, I yelled at him for insulting my homeplanet. Well… maybe I wasn't born on Taris, but it was still my home.

And I would save my home, no matter what.

Zaalbar began growling at me and I heard the words but didn't understand them through my screams of protest.

"Let me through, Zaalbar!" I yelled. "Let me go back! Let me have Taris! I don't want to leave it behind! Please Zaalbar! Let me through! I'm not giving Taris up! I'm not leaving it behind!"

":The Sith will kill you if you go back:" Zaalbar said rationally.

I ignored the truth of his words and kept on crying and screaming. I didn't care that Bastila was looking at me with disgust, like I was a child throwing a temper tantrum. Like she knew what leaving a home behind was like, she was a Jedi. But I didn't want to leave Taris behind.

At first Taris was only home because Griff was there and I was there and we couldn't leave. Then it became home because the Hidden Beks were there. My throat clogged up suddenly. What if the Beks died? What if they didn't survive? My tears came more rapidly. Memories of Taris plagued my mind and my fists began to hurt as they kept hitting Zaalbar who showed no sign of moving for me.

"Let me through!" I shrieked again and again. I finally collapsed onto the ground, crying. Zaalbar reached down to grab me, to tell me something comforting. But there were no words that could comfort me. None at all.

I ran from the main area of the ship and found my way through it to a dormitory with a lock. I could hear Zaalbar calling after me and following me. I saw Canderous look up from Alaanis' still stiff body and give me a strange look. I could hear Bastila yelling at me to come back.

But the most significant sound was the explosions that I couldn't hear anymore. We had left Taris. We had left it to burn… to _die_.

How could they do that? How could they leave a planet behind to die like that? It was a home, it was MY home! I fell down onto a bed after locking the door. Zaalbar began pounding his furry fists against it and I kept sobbing, ignoring him.

I felt snapped in half. Taris was a part of me… a part of me that had died. That my so-called _friends_ had let die. I didn't want to go wherever we were going. I wanted to go back to Taris. I wanted to go home.

Over the next few days I cried to myself, muttered angry words about the Sith and Alaanis, Bastila, Zaalbar and the rest who had let Taris die. I recalled memories that made me cry more, and I kept the door locked until I fell asleep. I sometimes only pretended I was asleep when Bastila would walk in to sleep herself, when dreams of the lasers hitting Taris haunted my dreams.

It was so difficult to just survive those few days. They were the worst in my entire life. But then Alaanis woke up… and _Carth_ came to talk to me.

I had just woken up, so my door was unlocked. I had been holding in my hand a datapad with a picture the Beks had taken about six years ago of me and Griff. They never liked Griff, but they loved me and accepted him despite all his problems they said he had. The datapad was beaten up and I had been carrying it around with me everywhere since Griff left.

Carth walked in then. I didn't want him in my room. I didn't want to talk to anybody. All I wanted was to fly straight back to Taris, because no matter what condition it was in, it was still my home.

"Why haven't you come out of here, Mission?" he asked me, standing in the doorway.

I didn't answer him, only cried out in rage, threw the datapad down onto the floor and tried to push him out of the room. It was none of his business, and he didn't care nor understand what it was like to have to leave behind your homeplanet after it's been ground into the dirt.

"Get out!" I screamed. "Get out!"

He didn't comply and I began beating my fists against his chest like I had to Zaalbar a few days ago. He had continued to try and get me out of the dormitory for a while, but I never left, except when I went to the 'fresher, and those times I went invisibly so that no one knew I was there.

"Mission!" Carth exclaimed, grabbing my shoulders and holding me away from him. I stopped crying and stopping trying to beat him. I simply remember the words that had echoed in my head for days: _He let Taris die._

"You didn't care at all!" I yelled at him. "You didn't care about Taris! You don't care about me! You just let it burn and die! You let the Sith kill Taris! You made me leave Taris behind! You don't even get what it feels like!"

"I understand more than you think I do," Carth said solemnly. I examined him and he looked like he had just taken a beating, verbally, but not by me. Somebody else had gotten to him.

"What do you know?" I cried out. "You're just an old geezer! You didn't lose your home!"

Carth shook his head and took his hands off my shoulders. "I lost my home too, Mission," he said, his eyes darkening as he spoke. "Telos. Revan and Malak bombed it four years ago. That was my home. And they killed my wife and my son." He looked at me. "He would've been just a little bit older than you. Sixteen, I think."

I suddenly felt horrible. I felt like a child. I had assumed without knowing that Carth didn't understand, but he knew better than I did what it felt like to leave your home behind, to watch it be murdered before your eyes. I sat down on my bunk and started sobbing again.

"I'm… I'm sorry Carth," I told him. "But I want to have Taris back. I want to have it back more than anything I ever wanted, even more than I want having Griff back."

"'Griff'?" Carth repeated.

"My brother," I told him. "He left Taris and me behind a few years ago… his evil girlfriend made him go and ditch me. I hate her."

I couldn't stop crying again and Carth tried to calm me like he would a child who tripped and skinned their knee. I think the fact that I wasn't alone was the thing that helped me the most. When Alaanis and Bastila told us we were going to Dantooine next it didn't hurt as much. I wished they would've said we were going back to Taris, but after my talk with Carth, I accepted it a little more. Not completely, but a little more.

We spent two months on Dantooine. Alaanis had been accepted for Jedi training and Bastila trained with her. Carth mulled around the ship and Canderous seemed to come and go as he pleased. Zaalbar and I found ourselves wandering the plains. He often compared the planet to Kashyyyk, except with many less trees.

"Hey Zaalbar, why did you leave Kashyyyk? You never told me."

We were lying in the shade of a tree around midday. We had just eaten lunch at the Jedi enclave and now were simply relaxing. It was a beautiful day. There was a light breeze, and it wasn't too hot nor too cold to be outside. My head rested on Zaalbar's shoulder as he was fiddling with his bowcaster and I was trying to urge a bug on the ground to walk onto a small stick I was holding.

":What makes you so interested in that:" Zaalbar asked me, stiffening slightly.

"Alaanis asked me about it once back on…" It was still hard to say Taris, even after all that time. It was hard to remember that Taris was gone. "Anyways, I couldn't give her an answer, and I wanted to know, you know, since we're best friends and everything."

Zaalbar seemed to sigh slightly, at least he took a deep breath. ":It's a bit complicated, but since you and I are friends, I should tell you.:" He shrugged me off his shoulder and we both sat up. I looked at him and waited to hear the story.

":My brother was selling us Wookiees as slaves:" Zaalbar began and at the first statement, I felt a small twinge of shock. ":He sold us to Czerka and I found out. I was so angry with him, that I used my claws and attacked. It is against our ways to use our claws for weapons; they are our tools. I was deemed a madclaw, and my brother and I both pleaded our case to our father, the chieftain of our village. He didn't want to believe me, a madclaw, and I was exiled.:"

I considered the story for a moment before reaching forward and putting my arms around Zaalbar in a hug. "I don't know why you never told me," I told him. "Your brother sounds like bantha poodoo." Zaalbar smiled at this.

":Thank you Mission:' he told me. ":I hope it makes you feel less alone.:"

For a moment I wasn't sure what he was talking about. We relaxed again, and he leaned back against the tree and me against him as the Dantooine sun began its descent from its highest point in the sky. Then I saw what Zaalbar had meant.

When Taris had been destroyed I felt like I was leaving behind a piece of me, a vital piece of me, and that I was the only one. But really, everyone leaves behind a piece of them. Carth had lost Telos and Zaalbar had lost Kashyyk like I had lost Taris. I felt much more comfortable, not just because I was leaning against a Wookiee that happened to be my best friend, but because I had finally let it go. I had finally given Taris up.


	4. Almost

Title: Almost  
Genre: Drama/Angst  
Main Character(s): Mira  
Rating: K/G  
Disclaimer: Despite the fact that I made up most of these characters, I still take no credit and hand it all over to Obsidian, LucasArts and BioWare.  
Date written: August 13, 2005

**Almost**

Family. A strange idea, a strange word, a strange meaning. Conventional or not, everybody was supposed to have a family. Living or dead, they would have a family.

Mira didn't. Not a real family anyways. No, instead, she had owners and fellow slaves. Her owners were the Mandalorians. And her fellow slaves were just like her. Family-less, most of them, except for the few that had siblings that were slaves as well. Most of the adults had been killed in the war, and plenty of the child slaves had as well. Mira felt luck that she had lived so long.

"Oi! You there!"

Mira lifted her head, covered in shaggy red hair, grimy from the dirt and weaponry she had been carrying around. "What now?" she sighed, tired and ready to sleep. Usually the slaves got more sleep than this, but right now she was stuck lugging around some ammo packs.

"The ammo goes over there," the fully armored Mandalorian lifted an arm and pointed to the opposite direction of where Mira was going. Grumbling, she lifted the oversized and heavy box with her small arms, scraped and dirty, and walked slowly over to the directed area.

Dropping the box, Mira decided to call it a night, whether or not her Mandalorian owners would want her to go to sleep.

She had been captured by a group of hunters from her homeworld, years ago, when Mira was simply an infant. Her parents had stood up against them and gotten struck down. She was surprised, upon hearing of her past, that she had been spared, but she had been. The Mandalorian hunters had brought the small child back to their camp, where a young Mandalorian woman took pity on her, and kept Mira as her own.

Leeya was the woman's name. Leeya of the clan Ordo. She had originally been watching Mira, like her own child, but she left. She was sent into hiding when the Mandalorian Wars began, along with all the other Mandalorian woman… and the real Mandalorian children.

It had been five years ago, and little Mira had missed Leeya like her own mother. Since then though, Mira had been taken as a slave, along with so many others who had suffered the same fate as she had. Children raised in the Mandalorian ways, but not real Mandalorians.

Leeya had a husband of course. Alix of Ordo. Alix had never liked that Leeya had cared for Mira, but he had been the closest thing Mira had for a father. And he was now in the war, fighting against the Jedi and the Republic.

Mira had seen Alix fight, in fact he had let her sit in on some of his sessions where he trained young Mandalorian recruits. She had watched, with childish awe, as they practiced their art of the blade, with such grace and elegance, Mira knew she would never be able to fight like that.

Being a girl would also prevent such things from happening.

Alix had watched out for Mira during the beginning of the wars, but soon enough he was engulfed too much in the planning and the fighting to be able to watch out for a little girl slave that wasn't even his own daughter.

"_Mira," _he had spoken to her the last time, before he went off to fight here, on Malachor V, a strange and difficult battle on unknown territory. The Mandalorians forbade themselves from coming here, and yet the Jedi Revan had led them here to this world to fight. _"Mira… you are not my daughter, but you are as good as one to me. If I return with the glory of surviving this battle while taking the enemy down, I would be honored to have you as part of our family."_

"_Honestly, when Leeya first brought you to me, I wondered why she would want such a scrawny little girl. But you have lived among Mandalorians for all your life. And you have proven yourself to be equal to any other Mandalorian girls."_

Mira had been overjoyed to hear the man she felt was her father, tell her that he thought of her as a daughter. Leeya and Alix had no children of their own, and Mira would be their firstborn.

That would've been… only if Alix had survived.

Tired and ragged, her simply garments ripped and torn from years of hard labor, Mira walked back to the barracks all the child slaves lived in. A few had the same fates as Mira, and would've become Mandalorian children themselves if their parents lived. But none would.

Taking off her grimy boots, covered in layers of dirt and grime, Mira slipped under a thin blanket on a flat mattress and pulled it up over most of her body, hoping that perhaps tomorrow the war would end, and she could live with her new parents, no longer being a simple slave… but somebody's _child_.

"Mira?" a small voice called. Mira lifted her tired head and saw a small boy with shaggy brown hair with flecks of dirt in it.

"What do you want Kip?" asked Mira, slightly annoyed at the little boy. He had come from the same world as Mira, and was about a year younger than her, yet much more frightened and scrawny. No Mandalorians had offered to parent him, he was simply a slave.

"I can hear the guns," he whispered.

Kip was sitting on his bed, huddled in his blanket, on the opposite side of the cramped barracks from Mira. The latter shook her head with a small smile and moved over to sit next to Kip and she put an arm around him.

"They're not going to hurt you," Mira calmed him. Kip was always frightened of the war around them, and he'd always been around Mira since the war had started. She'd been like a big sister to him, calming him down when he was scared, helping him out when he couldn't carry any more supplies.

"But they'll hurt our family," Kip said, his eyes filling with tears.

"Our family?" Mira said. "They're not our family, they're our slavers." She gave Kip a funny look.

Pale skin, covered in dirt and tears, Kip looked up at Mira, a few inches taller than himself, sitting and standing. "They're the closest thing we have. Especially us that don't have them wanting to have us for their own children."

"It's not my fault you don't have people who want you for parents," Mira hissed. Then she took a deep breath. "If you need family, I'll be your family Kip. I'll watch you; whether or not Alix and Leeya want you around, I promise I'll watch you."

Kip smiled up at Mira, holding one arm around the small boy. "Thanks… sis."

Mira smiled this time, and soon enough Kip fell asleep. Mira laid his blanket down on him and yawning, headed over to her own bed to finally sleep…

"Wake up! Mira!"

Bells were ringing and gunshots will still being fired in the distance as Mira sat up in bed her eyes groggy as a figure formed in front of her. "Kip?" she asked.

"Mira we have to get going! The republic and the Jedi, they're coming closer and… and… they're going to kill us or capture us if we don't get going! There's a transportation leaving, we can sneak on board." Kip said this all very quickly as Mira slid out of the bed and slipped on her boots.

"You think quickly Kip," the redheaded girl said impressed as she and Kip ran out of the barracks where many panicky children were running around, talking and screaming and fighting.

They ran towards a large ship in the distance, a cargo ship clearly, preparing to send most of the people on board into space to the command ships…

"Wait!" Mira stopped Kip as they reached the ship. A few Mandalorians came around to board on the loading ramp and Mira pulled the boy around the corner of the ship so that they wouldn't be seen. "We need something so that they can't see us."

"What can we use though?" Kip asked, looking perplexed.

Mira spotted a large group of durasteel boxes a few meters away. A few of the slave children were carrying the boxes to and fro the ship. "We can get ourselves in one of those boxes," Mira decided. Before waiting for Kip to respond, Mira dragged the boy over to the boxes, ripped one open, threw out the blaster rifles inside, and climbed in, pulling the top down on them.

Kip was about to say something when Mira clapped her hand to his mouth. They couldn't be heard or they'd be thrown off. And Mira wasn't about to lose her family by being stranded on Malachor V if she had anything to do with it. Kip was a part of her family, as was Alix and Leeya. And deep down, Mira wanted more than anything to simply have this war end so that she could simply have a family.

Both children stayed silent as they heard other children groan as they carried their box and other boxes on board the ship. Long minutes, perhaps even hours passed until Mira could hear the unmistakable sound of roaring engines. Clearly the ship was beginning its takeoff.

"I think we can talk now," Mira whispered, taking her hand off Kip's mouth. She hadn't moved it since they had first gotten into the box.

"Can we get out of this box?" Kip whispered back. "It's small… and I think we missed a rifle because my back is against something really weirdly shaped."

"Yeah…" Mira said distractedly. She pushed the top of the box open and climbed out, Kip following her. Around them were hundreds of other boxes of the same material and size, each marked with what was inside. Quietly, Mira crept to the viewscreen at the back of the room and stared down at Malachor V as they sped away from it.

She scrunched her eyebrows up in confusion. "Wait… we're not going back…"

Kip walked up beside her and looked out at the viewscreen as well. "We aren't…" he said quietly, holding up a hand to the viewscreen.

Mira continued to stare at Malachor V, hoping that Alix would survive and find her wherever this ship was going. She couldn't lose her family. Not again. But what happened next dashed all dreams that Mira had of a happy life with a conventional and happy family.

Malachor V shifted. It moved and twisted and soon enough, pieces of it broke and it seemed to shatter before Mira's eyes. All the ships that were orbiting the planet began descending down onto the dying planet and she could see explosions resulting in the collapses of those ships. The ship Mira and Kip were on was too far away to be drawn into the _thing _that pulled down almost every ship orbiting the planet. Only a few ships, almost as far away as the one Mira and Kip stowed away on, still survived whatever had happened.

Before even realizing it, tears had began falling from Mira's eyes. _No… it's a trick! It's simply a trick. Alix is fine, maybe he's on this ship! He can't be dead, he couldn't have been down there on the surface! NO!_

Her hands pounded against the viewscreen and Kip touched Mira's shoulder gently, but she jerked him off and walked off, before realizing that she had nowhere to walk too.

Rubbing the tears out of her eyes, Mira sat down in a corner of the room, huddled up and sobbing to herself. Kip knew that she needed to suck this in, the lost hope of a family, and so he stood by the viewscreen and continued to watch Malachor V, now dead.

The door slid open and two Mandalorians, fully clad, walked in, carrying large blaster rifles. They spotted Kip standing by the viewscreen, but not Mira, huddled in the corner. She quickly hid behind a couple boxes… she didn't want to be caught. But Kip had been… Mira gulped.

"What do you think you're doing here?" one of the Mandalorians called, walking up to Kip. The brown haired boy looked terrified. "Stowing away on the ship? You want to know what we do with stowaway boy?"

The other Mandalorian joined them and growled as he lifted his repeater. Mira wanted to yell out in objection, but Kip looked over in her direction with a look that clearly told her to not even think about it. She couldn't save him, but she could save herself.

The gunshot that erupted from the rifle and shot through Kip resounded in Mira's head millions of times. From the moment Kip's body hit the ground, to wherever her life would lead her, the sound would haunt her. The Mandalorians scouted the area quickly, but missed Mira, huddled up in a ball between two large boxes, and they walked out, leaving Kip's dead body behind.

More tears sprang to Mira's eyes as she stared at her dead friend… her dead _brother._ Maybe not by blood, but by their friendship, by their loyalties to one another, they were siblings really. Just like Alix and Leeya had been Mira's parents by the connection between them, not the blood they lacked sharing.

From then on, Mira refused to make friends, to make alliances that would burden her like this, that would cause her such pain when she lost them. It seemed ideal for her that she would become a bounty hunter, sneaking off the ship easily when the Mandalorians landed on Nar Shaddaa for fuel.

Family was a burden, nothing else.

XxXxX

I absolutely adore Mira. She is probably my favorite character out of both games. When Mira got onto the subject of her 'family' dying at Malachor I knew there had to be a story behind it. So I wrote this fic, Almost, for the 11th Dueling Circle Challenge: Family Ties.

As I said in The Box, much apologies for you guys reading Destiny and The Huntress with the little updates you guys have been getting recently. I'll try and update by the end of the month! Thanks so much for being patient.

As for this fic, I hope you guys enjoyed it, and please drop a review, they're greatly appreciated. However, flames will not be tolerated, so if you're got criticism, make sure it's nicely put and actually constructive. Thanks!


	5. Wake Up Call

Title: Wake Up Call  
Genre: Humor  
Main Character(s): Mira, Disciple/Mical, kotor2 crew  
Rating: K/PG  
Disclaimer: Again, I don't own these characters or the plot this fic is based off of. I'd go cry but that's really unnecessary.  
Date written: July 1, 2005

**Wake Up Call**

It was a day just like most other days on the Ebon Hawk. Atton was in the cockpit, playing Pazaak with himself, Kreia and Visas were meditating, HK-47 was patrolling the ship, declaring that 'meatbags' could show up any time to eliminate, and Bao-Dur was working with the small astromech droid, T3-M4. Newly aboard the ship, Mandalore was working on his Mandalorian repeater. Mira was sitting in the common room, going through another one of her datapads, wondering when they would get off the ship.

The Ebon Hawk had landed on Korriban earlier that morning. Only Atton and the exile, Sienna Vaas, had been awake. Kreia had woken up shortly after and then Sienna and Atton got to waking up everybody. Sienna had gone to wake up the Disciple after Atton refused to. The exile had come out of the cockpit, huffing, heading towards the port dormitory where the males on the ship usually slept.

Mira looked over the datapad again. It wasn't an important datapad, just instructions on how to make some rockets for Mira's wrist rocket launcher. But then she heard the scream.

The redheaded bounty hunter raised her eyes from the datapad as Sienna came running into the room screaming, her blue eyes wide in shock. Soon enough, most of the crew had come into the common room to see what all the screaming was about. The Disciple, if Sienna had woken him up, wasn't present, and neither was Kreia.

_She'd probably start on another cryptic lecture anyways,_ Mira thought to herself as Atton joined the group. He raised an eyebrow curiously at Sienna.

"Why are you screaming? And where's the Disciple? Weren't you going to wake him up?" the scruffy pilot asked.

Sienna seemed unable to speak. She just closed her eyes, shivered and cringed.

Bao-Dur watched his general act most peculiarly. Mandalore, Visas and Mira stared at Sienna, waiting for an answer. "What is it?" Mira finally broke the silence. "What in the Force is making you scream like that?"

"THE DISCIPLE!" Sienna shrieked. "HE SLEEPS IN THE NUDE!"

Atton's eyes grew wide and Mira laughed outright. "Well… that's a fascinating piece of information," Atton mumbled, obviously trying not to think about it.

"I… I just went in to wake him up and I poked him on the shoulder," Sienna explained. "He had a blanket over him at that point and then he rolled over and fell off the bed and the blanket fell off!"

Mira tried to contain her laughter better at Sienna's disturbed look. She and Bao-Dur exchanged glances though and couldn't stop laughing.

"It's not that funny!" Sienna exclaimed. "It's sick and wrong!"

Atton mumbled something that sounded remotely like 'can't argue with that'. Finally everybody ended up sitting down in the common room, Sienna beginning to calm down. Mira was still having trouble not laughing.

Of course, it was she herself who had asked only yesterday if Sienna and the Disciple had anything going on between them. The exile had been glowing. Apparently, she was just more calm and relaxed, after helping out some family on Onderon. And according to this day's events, she didn't think of the Disciple in such a way anyways.

After about ten minutes of silence, the Disciple made his appearance in the room, blushing and avoiding Sienna's eyes as she was avoiding his.

"I'm sorry?" he attempted to apologize as he sat down in a chair. Sienna just shook her head.

"Disciple… when you're on a ship with seven other people, and you share a dormitory with three of them, do you really find it… well… appropriate to sleep without something covering you?" Atton asked, smirking.

The Disciple, usually well-tempered, glared at Atton for a moment before gaining his calm disposition again._ Probably thinking of the Jedi code in his head… or perhaps planning Atton's murder_, Mira thought to herself.

"Ahem," a voice came from the doorway into the common room. Kreia had made her appearance in the room. Sienna's eyes grew slightly wider, wondering how much Kreia had heard and Mira's grin slipped off her face.

_The old witch interrupts everything interesting_, Mira cursed internally. _Like that Pazaak game a few days ago. She just comes into the room and all the fun ends._

"I won't be accompanying you onto Korriban," Kreia told Sienna. "I will, however, be in contact through our bond."

"Alright, stay with the ship then," Sienna answered, nodding her head. The shocked emotions from her face earlier seemed to have melted away and now she was simply acting more naturally, like her Jedi self, with an indifferent look on her face.

Visas and Bao-Dur went with Sienna onto Korriban, and the Disciple, Atton, Mira and Mandalore were left behind in the common room. Kreia was meditating. Again.

Atton and Mira were both having problems not laughing outright, recalling the Disciple's embarrassed look. They ended up playing Pazaak while the Disciple worked with his lightsaber. Mandalore went back to work on his Mandalorian repeater, sitting in the corner of the common room.

"So Atton," Mira said smirking. She didn't like Atton very much nor the Disciple, but since she had the chance, she'd embarrass the Disciple as much as she could. It was just too good an opportunity to pass up. It was a rather disturbing thought, him sleeping in the nude. "Did you know that Disciple slept in the nude?"

"Nope," Atton shook his head, pulling out a plus five card from his sidedeck to make his total nineteen. "And I thought we shared everything too," he added sarcastically.

"Did you know that Mandalore?" Mira asked the Mandalorian leader.

Mandalore chuckled from beneath his helm. "I had no clue that the Disciple liked a little freedom. It's not something many people I know practice." Mira's grin widened upon catching a glimpse of the Disciple's reddening face.

"It's obvious that Sienna wasn't very apparent of such traditions among the Jedi from her reaction," Atton remarked. "I guess it's just a Jedi tradition she chose not to practice."

"It's not a Jedi tradition," Disciple said tersely, not taking his eyes off his lightsaber.

"Then why do you do it? Actually I don't want an answer," Mira said, shaking her head. "It's just that, the ship does have a place to clean your robes and undergarments and we don't exactly die of heat when we're in space like we were last night."

"Can we just drop the subject?" the Disciple sighed, his face still rather red and slightly irritated.

"But it's a scientific study!" Mira exclaimed, grinning viciously. "And as a scientist yourself, wouldn't you want to know answers to questions? It's just like the question, why go to your left instead of to your right if you don't have a reason either way? Except the question instead is, why does Disciple sleep in the nude if he doesn't need to?"

"It would save us a lot of pain, especially Sienna," Atton chuckled. Disciple finally snapped and walked out of the room, fuming. "I thought Jedi weren't supposed to feel emotions, eh?" Mira called after him.

"Amusement is an emotion! And you're both Jedi too!" Disciple called back as he left.

"We have a right to be amused though," Atton smirked.

"And he has a right to be embarrassed, oh geez, I really wish I could've seen it… well not Disciple naked, but more like his and Sienna's initial reaction," Mira muttered as she flipped over a five card, adding her total up to twenty.

"Well, at least we got a good laugh out of it," Atton shrugged as he flipped over a ten card, giving him a total of twenty six. "Mira, are you sure you're not cheating?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Mira smirked, taking Atton's credits for her own. "Maybe you just suck at Pazaak."

"Rematch then."

XxXxX

"No way! I am not going to wake him up!" Mira exclaimed. It was two days later and the Ebon Hawk had just landed on Dxun. Kelborn, second in charge at the Mandalorian camp on Dxun, had sent the Ebon Hawk a message telling them to report back to Dxun. Master Kavar on Onderon had called for Sienna's assistance in the civil war in Iziz. The Ebon Hawk had come as quickly as possible.

But Disciple was sleeping late again. Sienna refused to wake him up, and since it was now common knowledge that Disciple slept in the nude, nobody wanted to wake him up.

"Can't we just leave him here?" Atton pleaded.

"There's a civil war going on and we're arguing about who's going to wake up the Disciple," Sienna rolled her eyes. "I suffered the pain already, somebody else has got to do it."

Mira smirked to herself. "I'll wake him up. I've got an idea…" Sienna looked at the redhead curiously but Mira wasn't telling. Instead, she headed towards the garage on the Ebon Hawk where HK was currently stationed…

XxXxX

"Command: Wake up disgustingly peaceful meatbag! Statement: The hunter meatbag has requested for me to wake you up by any means necessary. Eager Threat: I will use those means on you if you do not wake up."

HK-47 walked into the port dormitory where Disciple lie in his bed. Mira stood in the doorway, watching HK do his work. _Force he's a deep sleeper!_ Mira thought to herself.

HK lifted his blaster rifle and began prodding the Disciple with it. "Agitated Request: Wake up meatbag! Query: What means shall I use to wake you up?" The assassin droid continued prodding Disciple with his blaster rifle until finally he prodded in a bit of an awkward spot.

"What the Force!" the Disciple exclaimed, jumping out of bed. Mira smirked to herself from the doorway, turning away so that the Disciple wouldn't see her admiring her handiwork. _And to avoid seeing him_, she added as she heard a soft wisp of his blanket falling onto the ground.

"Exclamation: My photoreceptors! My photoreceptors!" HK began shouting. Mira could almost feel the heat that must've been radiating off of Disciple's face by now.

"Request: Put on clothes, disgustingly peaceful meatbag!" HK commanded. Mira could hear him cocking his blaster rifle. "Threat: Or else I will practice my assassination protocols on you."

Mira could hear Disciple rummaging through his footlocker quickly and putting on his clothes and Jedi robes. HK walked out of the room in front of Disciple who saw Mira leaning against the wall.

"That was your wake-up call," the bounty hunter smirked. "I thought you might've learned your lesson. Hopefully, HK made you actually learn it this time." Chuckling to herself, Mira walked back into the common room, followed by a crimson red Disciple.

XxXxX

Sure it's immature, but its fun too. XD


	6. The Will of the Force

Title: The Will of the Force  
Genre: Humor  
Main Character(s): Atton Rand, Female Exile (Sienna Vaas)  
Rating: K/PG  
Disclaimer: No, these characters and such don't belong to me. It's alright. I've gotten over it.  
Date written: July 1, 2005

**The Will of the Force**

"YOU MEANT TO DO THAT!"

In the cargo hold of the Ebon Hawk stood Atton Rand and Sienna Vaas, the exile. Sienna was… naked. And fuming as she picked up her ripped clothes, bearing the obvious stench and scars of being cut by Atton's lightsabers.

Atton stuttered as she opened the cargo hold door and walked out. He had been fantasizing about doing such a thing… ever since she appeared, half naked no less, in his life on Peragus. But Atton wasn't as sleazy as a guy who would do something like that! Not on purpose. He recalled the events that led up to his mistake…

_Twenty minutes ago…_

Atton had been sitting in the pilot's seat, playing Pazaak in his head as usual, while most of the Ebon Hawk's crew was sleeping considering how early it was. But Atton couldn't sleep. He didn't sleep. He instead, sat in the pilot's seat, his eyes closed and his legs up.

He didn't hear her as she walked in, but felt her through the Force. It was an interesting feeling, this Force thing, but he was getting used to it.

"You're up early," Atton muttered as Sienna walked in.

"So are you… did you even sleep?" countered Sienna. Atton shook his head, his eyes still closed. "Do you want to spar? We haven't sparred much since you first began your training."

"Sure." Atton stood up and followed Sienna out of the room. She wasn't wearing all her Jedi layers as she usually was, just the clothes she slept in. Some khaki pants and a baggy white top. It didn't complement her figure as much as her underwear did back on Peragus… or that dancer's outfit she had to wear to dance for Vogga the hutt.

They ended up in the cargo hold. Atton took off his jacket and pulled out his blue lightsabers. Sienna smirked as she ignited her two silver sabers. "Ready?" she asked him. Atton nodded and they began sparring.

It wasn't like it was when they were in battle when Atton felt his emotions being forced through his fighting technique. Instead, times like these he could predict what Sienna would do next and it was more of a dance of peace and calmness. He felt her aura of passivity and found it inspiring. Maybe it was that they were friends rather than enemies.

_Which is a good thing considering how badly she'd kick my ass if I was her enemy,_ Atton thought to himself.

Sienna began striking a bit harder and slightly more aggressively. Her left saber went flying towards Atton's stomach and he jumped back, barely missing it. She took a side shot with her other lightsaber which Atton parried with difficulty with the force it was used with.

_So you want to play it this way do you?_

For fifteen minutes they sparred, but it was more like a fight. Atton would've been killed by now if she wasn't avoiding fatal blows. He was breathing hard and sweating but her energy seemed to be growing. _Maybe I **should** spar more…_

Finally, Atton lost one of his lightsabers as it flew to the side and Sienna held one of her sabers at his neck menacingly. Then she turned off both her sabers and sat down on a plasteel cylinder in the room. "You weren't bad," she stated. "But you really should practice some more."

"Yeah," Atton murmured as he sat down on a metal box next to her, turning off his lightsaber. "I should." They sat there for a minute, but just a minute, before Sienna stood up and got Atton's second saber and tossed it back to him.

"Let's go again," she said. Atton knew he couldn't say no, so still worn out he stood up and ignited his blue sabers as she turned her silver ones on.

It started out much like the last one, but it only took a few moments before Sienna was striking harder. She nicked his leg even, burning a small hole in his pants around the ankle. He gave her a look, but her face remained emotionless.

_How can she be so indifferent in battle? She's always this way… she's like the poster girl for the Jedi, always doing the right thing, helping people, and being so serene its crazy!_

Finally, Atton felt his energy returning. He called upon the Force to help his shots and blocks. She struck at his left and he blocks it with strength enough to knock her back a step. He struck at her from above and she blocked with both her sabers, leaving her midsection open for a blow.

_Pure Pazaak,_ he thought as he swiped his saber at her midsection. But he was a little off with where he was swinging.

He cut a hole in her shirt, rather large, and as she pushed him back, his lightsaber continued down her shirt and began cutting her trousers. Soon enough the clothes fell on the ground and she was left naked.

Sienna at first just looked shocked and she didn't move for a second. Then she began gathering her clothes up from the ground. "Um… Atton? Why did you do that?" she said quietly but with extreme venom.

Atton smiled nervously. "It was the will of the Force?"

"YOU MEANT TO DO THAT!"

That's where we left off, with Atton standing alone in the cargo room as Sienna stormed out, rushing back to the girls' dormitory to put on some new clothes. Not cut by Atton's lightsaber.

"Seriously! I didn't mean to! I swear, blame the Force not me!" Atton called after her.

_Well, at least I finally got to see her naked,_ Atton mused as he walked out. _Never mind the fact that she probably hates your guts now… I'll apologize again later. Force, her expression was something… like she had just seen a mutant ten foot tall gizka or something…_


	7. The Kidnapping of Shen Matale

Title: The Kidnapping of Shen Matale  
Genre: Romance/Suspense/Tragedy  
Main Character(s): Shen Matale, Rahasia Sandral  
Rating: K/PG  
Disclaimer: These characters and the plot this story is based off of, as well as some of the dialogue, does not belong to me, but to people far smarter than me.  
Date written: October 10, 2005

**The Kidnapping of Shen Matale**

"Shen, son, why can't you simply find the right woman and marry her?"

Shen Matale and his father Ahlan were 'relaxing' in the dining room, where they were having another typical discussion. They had been having the same one since Shen's eighteenth birthday two weeks ago. Ever since then, Ahlan had been trying to get his son to marry so that he would be able to hold up the family line once Ahlan died.

"Father, must we have this same discussion, day after day?" Shen mumbled, taking a sip of a light ale he and his father were drinking. "I'm not going to marry yet."

"Well you're not going to university on some other planet Shen," Ahlan told his son grumpily. "We need you here. This house will fall apart without you. And that's no lie."

Shen sighed. He couldn't tell his father the truth. The real reason he didn't want to marry most of the women on Dantooine. His father was reaching his elder years and Shen didn't want to burden him with the truth. He had wanted to go to university, perhaps on Telos, but since the planet's destruction in the current Sith War, Shen had changed his mind and decided to stay around.

Another event had triggered that idea as well.

"Father, have the kath hounds been acting up lately?" Shen said, distractedly, breaking into whatever his father had been saying in mid sentence.

"Do not interrupt me Shen," Ahlan growled. But he relaxed and leaned back into his chair, setting down his empty ale glass and reaching for his cigar case. "And I have seen the kath hounds acting more viciously lately. They haven't attacked any of our farm hands, however, if that's what you were trying to imply."

Shen shook his head. "No father, I meant that Cass-, I mean that Sandral boy, had gone missing about a week ago. I thought that the kath hounds might've had anything to do with it."

Ahlan shook his head. "He was an architect boy; he would get himself into enough danger around here without having the kath hounds interfere, I'm sure."

_Actually father, I was wondering if you had anything to do with it, because Rahasia's father thinks you do._

Nodding his head, Shen stood up. "I'm going to the market father; we need to get a few new farming tools, since a few have gone missing in the past few days."

"Probably those no good Sandrals," Ahlan muttered.

Shen ignored his father's comment; it was something he always said when anything went wrong. Frankly, it annoyed Shen to no end. His father didn't know the Sandrals, and it was his fault that the families hated each other. His and Rahasia's father… but Shen would never tell Rahasia that, as much as the girl said it were true herself.

The trip to the market was quick from the Matale estate, being located a mile or two north of the Jedi Enclave on Dantooine. Shen took his family's speeder and arrived there at midday, the sun blaring high above him and other Dantooine farmers and merchants as they sold and bought numerous things. From those claiming to have 'found' (when they had actually stolen) Jedi artifacts, those selling fresh and dried fruits, meats from kinrath and kath hounds, and those selling farming supplies, exactly what Shen was looking for.

But not only was he looking for the tools, but he was looking for Rahasia.

Shen smiled when he spotted her, talking to a man selling dried fruits. She seemed to be arguing with him about fresh fruits and why he thought that his dried fruits were better. Shen asked the woman he was talking to about the farming supplies to hold onto them for a moment. He walked over to Rahasia and grabbed her around the waist.

"Wha-?" she shrieked before turning around and spotting Shen smiling. "Shen!" she grinned back at his, throwing her own arms around his neck and greeting him with a kiss.

"Hi Rahasia," he said once they parted. He waved to the man who was still looking disgruntled by his argument with Rahasia. Shen threw him a small credit chip. "I'll have a piece of that dried fruit," he told him, smiling.

Handing Shen a piece, the merchant grumbled and told them to scram, and both Rahasia and Shen obeyed. "Care to have some lunch, my lady?" Shen offered Rahasia as they walked, hand in hand, back towards where Shen had left his farming tools on hold.

"That sounds good," Rahasia said smiling, and Shen couldn't help but smile at her lit up features. Rahasia was beautiful to him, and much different from the women his father wanted Shen to marry. They were all docile and boring, and they all looked the same with pasty white skin, short pale hair and little height or care for anything of worth. Rahasia on the other hand was just as tall as Shen, had creamy chocolate skin, short brown hair and a care for so many important things, including him. She also never backed down in an argument. Except with her father. This was something that they both had in common: the fear of their fathers.

After Shen had bought the farming tools and left them in his speeder, he led Rahasia to another food stall where they bought themselves some lunch. They ate as they walked around the market, talking and laughing.

_If only father would allow me to marry Rahasia instead of one of those other girls._

Once their lunch was over, they sat underneath a shady tree just west of the marketplace, not far enough away to be in danger of the wild creatures nearby, but far enough away to have more peace than the hectic market had. Rahasia's head was leaning on Shen's shoulder and they were staring as the few clouds in the bright blue sky passed by. Dantooine really was a tranquil world.

"My father says he doesn't know what happened to Casus," Shen told Rahasia, breaking the peaceful silence between them.

Rahasia shifted slightly, but Shen couldn't see her face or whatever it was expressing.

"Are… are you still upset about his death?" Shen asked her. Rahasia nodded her head.

"He was going to convince father that you were okay… he was the only person father really listened to, and he was going to tell father that I could be with you," she explained, sniffling slightly. "Casus was my brother, Shen, he was the person I was closest to for my entire life. And now you're the person I'm closest too… but I can't be with you."

Shen understood. He wanted to start cursing both their father's and their high and mighty pride, but he didn't, and instead he rubbed Rahasia's shoulder, comforting her. Casus had warmed up to Shen after a while, deciding that Shen was worthy of his younger sister.

The clouds overhead began moving closer to the area they were in and it began raining. The merchants and shoppers shouted to one another while they brought together their supplies and stalls, wheeling them off.

"Did you walk here?" Shen asked Rahasia as they left the shady tree behind and walked through the rain, Shen's jacket being held above the both of them. Rahasia nodded. "Let me give you a ride home, I'll drop you off at the back entrance so that your father doesn't see."

Rahasia objected the whole way back to Shen's speeder, but she got inside reluctantly, knowing that she'd freeze if she walked home in this rain. Shen drove past his manor, and continued south to the Sandral territory, hoping that the farmhands there had all gone inside so that none would know he was driving Rahasia home.

If Nurik Sandral caught them, Shen would suffer. Rahasia might suffer. He knew it.

Shen thought he was lucky when Rahasia jumped out of the speeder, giving him a quick kiss, and nobody seemed to have seen them as Shen drove away. He headed back to the Matale estate and parked his speeder, walking inside to see his father yelling at one of the farmhands about getting something or other that wasn't supposed to get wet, wet.

"Father, the tools are in the garage," Shen said to his father, entering the main room. Ahlan nodded and waved the farmhand he was yelling at off.

"Thank you son, now I need to go to the Jedi Enclave for about an hour, they asked that I see them about the fights between Nurik Sandral and I," Ahlan responded. "Ha! Why don't they call the Sandrals down there too?"

"They do," Shen said offhandedly then immediately regretted it.

His father sent him a funny look before hugging his son goodbye. "Don't think we haven't finished our talk from earlier Shen," Ahlan told him. Shen almost rolled his eyes; his father said the same thing everyday.

Ahlan did leave within moments for the Jedi Enclave and Shen retreated into his study to do… something. He didn't have much to do when it was raining like this and his father wasn't home. Shen usually helped out with the farming, but all the farmhands had been sent home or into the added on building where some of them lived. So Shen sufficed with staring out the window and watching the rain pour down.

The thunder and lightning came soon, and a fully fledged storm erupted outside. Shen thought he heard a few strange sounds other than the thunder and the kath hounds roaring at the storm, but he ignored them. He thought he saw a shady figure approaching the house, but he didn't.

Then the lights went out. This surprised Shen, as their house had its own generator that it ran on, and didn't run on wired electricity. That's when the fear ran over Shen.

_Somebody's here!_

Shen whirled around in the darkness and stood up from his chair. He reached out for the light switch, but it wasn't working, so he abandoned the study, grabbing a walking stick he had found when he was a child, to use in case of an intruder.

He walked through the halls that were lit only with the blasts of lightning from the storm outside. Shen's breathing was louder with his fear and worry. It was probably only bandits trying to rob them, but what if it was Mandalorians? The Mandalorians would certainly kill him. Why was he even looking to see who it was? Why wasn't he hiding?

_Because I'm not a coward._

Footsteps were sounded in the hallway and when another bolt of lightning struck, Shen could make out a figure, walking towards him, definitely a man of some sort, but not a Mandalorian; not enough armor. "Who are you?" Shen called out, trying to sound brave.

"Nobody of importance," a voice replied, and before Shen could walk any closer, the man pulled out a gun and shot at Shen. He was then surrounded by blackness.

XxXxX

He awoke, dizzy, feeling drugged, and stuck in a small place. Shen wasn't exactly claustrophobic, but the small space made his breathing heavy and labored. His left side stung and he groaned as he tried to move, but he was tied up, and lying down on some uncomfortable mattress.

_Where am I?_

Shen lay in the dark room for what felt like days after he woke up, but was only about two hours. Shen wondered during that time about who had shot him, why he wasn't dead, why he was shot in the first place, where he was, and how long it had been since he had been shot. He received no answers in those two hours, only more confusion until the door opened and a few questions were answered immediately.

"Nurik!" Shen tried to shout out, but he was gagged, so it came out more as a mumbled.

"Shen, my boy," Nurik Sandral said as he leaned down over Shen. He looked crazed, his hair was sticking up in most places, and he was twitching slightly as he reached for his pocket and pulled out a stunner. "I saw you with my Rahasia… what makes you think you're worthy of a Sandral?"

He stuck Shen with his stunner and smiled maniacally. "You're not, my boy, you're certainly not. And your father… your father who stole my son from me! You think I would let my daughter share that father? Think again!" he struck Shen again.

It didn't take very long for Shen to fall unconscious again. He wasn't trained against torture, and Nurik seemed to be rather happy sticking Shen with the stunner again and again.

Shen wasn't sure how long he was in the small room, tied up and gagged. He felt like he would be dead any day now, and even when Rahasia snuck in to see him and give him food, she couldn't help him for fear of her father. Shen wasn't in any condition to convince her otherwise. He simply wondered how long he would be locked up. Nurik tortured him twice a day, almost in a pattern, driving Shen out of his unconsciousness before sinking him into a second dose of such pain. Shen felt like his left side, where Nurik consistently struck Shen, would never feel the same again.

Then one day the door was opened and it wasn't Rahasia… and it wasn't Nurik. It was a strange woman Shen had never seen before. She had platinum blonde hair, shaved close to her head, piercing blue eyes, and around her belt was… a lightsaber! She was a Jedi!

"Are you Shen Matale?" she asked him, stepping into the room. Shen nodded his head weakly as the woman leaned over him and began untying the ropes around him. Behind her were two men, both large and well-built, one with graying hair and the other with deep brown hair. "I'm Navinne Yea," said the woman, pulling the gag out of Shen's mouth. "This is Carth Onasi, and Canderous Ordo," she gestured to the two men behind her.

"Where's Rahasia?" Shen asked wearily. He wasn't even sure if the Jedi knew where Rahasia was, he only cared about her at the present moment.

"She told us to find you and get you out," Navinne replied, helping Shen stand.

Shen shook his head. "I'm not going anywhere without Rahasia," he told her. "I know that if I leave her here, she'll never be able to leave. She's too afraid of her father. And I don't know if I'd be able to live knowing Rahasia's here, with her father. He's gone mad. He might even kill her if I escape."

Navinne looked thoughtful for a moment then handed Shen over to the brown-haired man named Carth. "You two stay here with him, I'm going to go talk to Rahasia," Navinne ordered, walking out of the small room.

She was back only minutes later and nodded to Shen. "She'll meet you at the back entrance," Navinne told him. "Now let's get you out of here." Grabbing one of Shen's arms while Carth took the other, he was led out of the building, which was obviously the Sandral estate as Shen had suspected, though not known for sure.

"Shen! You're safe!"

The Dantooine sun shone brightly upon the back stone porch of the Sandral estate where Rahasia stood, her arms wide open, running towards Shen. Navinne and Carth both let go of Shen as Rahasia wrapped her arms around him. She was gentle, so that Shen's wounds from her father didn't hurt as much, and he smiled at her. "Thank goodness you managed to escape Rahasia. Now we can be together, without our fathers."

Rahasia smiled at Shen brilliantly, both so happy to be with each other once more. "It's all thanks to this Jedi that we're here right now Shen," Rahasia said, smiling over at Navinne.

Navinne's demeanor changed within a split second. Beaming proudly a moment before, her eyes seemed darker and hollowed, the smile seemed… _off_ somehow, and her arms were crossed almost menacingly. "Shen's father promised me a healthy reward," she told the happy couple.

"My father?" Shen said, suddenly struck with realization. _Oh no… that means…_

Ahlan Matale was making his way over a hill from the north towards the Sandral estate, four of his guard droids at his side. "There you are, Shen!" he cried angrily.

"Father!" Shen replied, shocked, unhappy, concerned, and worried. He caught sight of Navinne's lightsaber gleaming in the sunlight and grew more worried. _A Jedi sold me out… a _Jedi!

"Mr. Matale!" Rahasia breathed, with her eyes bugging out of her skull. Ahlan sent her a dirty look, and then caught sight of another approaching figure from the estate. Coming out the backdoor was Nurik Sandral, looking furious, with his own group of four guard droids. "Rahasia!" Nurik raged.

"Father!" Rahasia called out, growing more worried by the second.

"Mr. Sandral!" Shen gulped.

"Nurik!"

"Ahlan!"

"I knew this was your fault! I knew you kidnapped my son!" Ahlan cried out in rage. Shen tried to interject, but was cut off by his father. "How dare you commit such a crime? You Sandrals deserve to die for your transgressions!"

Nurik glared across the group right at Ahlan and scoffed. "You took my son from me long before I took yours!"

"Excuses, excuses!" Ahlan cried out. "I never took your son. He probably ran away and got himself killed. I can't blame someone for leaving your household… look at your daughter!" Shen was completely ready to interject this time, even leaping forward, but Navinne beat him to it.

"Why don't you just shoot each other and get it over with?" she asked, a menacing smirk on her face. Everyone looked her way and stopped talking for a moment.

"No! Father! Don't listen to her!" Shen finally gained back his voice. The aura of the situation changed drastically from happy freedom to arranged death. Even now, with the looks on Navinne, Ahlan and Nurik's faces, Shen knew blood would be shed now, no matter what.

"We… we don't need to fight like this!" Rahasia exclaimed, watching her father grip the blaster rifle in his hand tighter.

Nurik gave Rahasia an almost apologetic look. "It's gone too far for that," he told her gravely. "Ahlan has crossed the line too many times!"

"For what you have done to my family, I will see you dead and rotting on the ground!" Ahlan countered.

"No matter what, this has to end in blood," Navinne added. Shen knew she was right, but she didn't want to believe her. How could a Jedi be so cold-hearted to sell them out, then to have them kill each other off?

"What are you doing?" hissed the man named Carth. "Are you trying to get everyone here killed?"

Navinne smiled and looked straight into Shen's fearful eyes. She didn't look the least bit regretful as she responded to Carth, telling him, "Exactly." The man named Canderous smirked and chuckled to himself, but Carth looked disturbed.

"Don't do it!" Shen called out, to everyone and yet to no one in particular.

Nurik began weeping suddenly. "Ahlan… we have gone too far! This has all gone horribly wrong… I'm not sure how this happened. Our children are old enough to live their lives, and as much as we want to live theirs for them… we can't."

"He is my son!" Ahlan exclaimed, gesturing to Shen. "How can he disobey me like this?"

Again, Shen began speaking, ready to tell his father everything about Rahasia and himself, ready to clear things up. From Nurik's weeping form, Shen almost felt like things could work out. For a split second, he felt the hope that things would work out. Then Navinne spoke.

"Nurik… Ahlan did actually kill Casus," she said. And with those simple words everything fell apart.

"WHAT?" Nurik screamed out in rage, his face, wet with tears, turning red with anger. He turned towards Ahlan. "I KNEW you were lying to me! I KNEW you killed my son! You've always had it out for us Sandrals haven't you?"

Ahlan began objecting. "No! I never did a thing to your son! Not a thing!"

Nurik aimed his rifle at Ahlan. Rahasia began shrieking in objection, but Navinne only stood off to the side, smiling as she watched the action. Shen was too busy watching her to notice that Nurik was turning the rifle towards him.

"You took my son!" screamed Nurik. "So I'll take yours!"

Shen didn't close his eyes. He waited for the bolt to hit him, he waited to die. It felt like forever… but forever never came. Rahasia… she had moved into the way. She had been shot by her own father.

"RAHASIA!" Nurik yelled out and fell to the ground, grief-shaken.

"Kill them all!" Navinne cried out to Nurik. "She killed herself for him… he doesn't deserve to live."

Shen growled and lunged at Navinne. "YOU ARE THE REASON SHE'S DEAD!" he screamed, wrestling her to the ground. He had height over her, but not strength, because even though he was a farm boy, she was a Jedi, and had another advantage.

A lightsaber.

The beam shot through Shen's body before he even realized he had tackled her to the ground, and he fell to one side. His last sight was Rahasia's dead body, meters away… and he wondered if they would be together in the end anyways.

XxXxX

Navinne smiled to herself as Ahlan crumpled to the ground, killed by Nurik, and Nurik was attacked by Ahlan's droids. Once both the men were dead, the droids turned on her, Carth and Canderous, but they easily disposed of them.

"Why did you do that?" Carth exclaimed once all the droids were scrapped into pieces.

"I just handed them the truth, and they did what they willed with it," Navinne, smirking, told him. "Is it my fault if they kill each other over fact?"

"You lied to them!" Carth cried out. "Ahlan didn't kill Casus, you knew that!"

Navinne's smirk widened. "A slip of the tongue, what can I say?"

Carth shook his head and turned away to head back towards the Jedi Enclave. "I thought I knew you, Navinne Yea, but apparently, I don't."

She smiled inwardly at that. "No… you certainly don't flyboy." She aimed her lightsaber at his turned back, and her eyes blazed red as the red beam ignited and she threw it.

_We'll find someone else to pilot the ship, and blame his death on the kath hounds. Simple as that._


	8. Right and Wrong

Title: Right and Wrong  
Genre: Drama  
Main Character(s): Bastila Shan  
Rating: K/G  
Disclaimer: I don't own this. Any of it. –sob-  
Date written: August 4, 2005

**Right and Wrong**

Revan and Malak. I remembered them; everyone did. They were two of the most promising students in the Order. And then they left… to fight for something they believed in.

I hadn't heard what they said, what Revan said to the council when she left to fight the Mandalorians. All us Padawans were curious as to what had been said to silence even the greatest masters, to break them even for just a moment, and to leave confounded Jedi in their wake as they left.

Revan had been rumored to be one of the most charismatic Jedi of our time, able to convince anybody of anything. She had had a large gathering of friends at the enclave when she was younger, when I was younger as well.

I was humbled when she had spoken to me once. I was eight at the time and she was sixteen. I was having trouble adjusting to new levels of difficulty that the Masters were throwing at me. I had heard something about Battle Meditation and how I was supposedly talented at it. I had been walking around the halls of the enclave when I accidentally walked right into Revan.

I didn't recognize her at first, but then again I had just tripped and hit my head on the ground. But when she materialized in front of me, shimmering black hair and piercing green eyes, I knew it was Revan.

"I-I'm sorry," I had stuttered at the time.

Revan just smiled at me and helped me up with her hand grasping mine. "It's alright. You are Bastila Shan right?" I nodded my head silently. "The Masters speak most highly of you, saying you are quite talented. Even Vrook, who does not spare compliments, speaks highly of you."

I felt nervous, hearing Revan tell me that I was talented. Even at sixteen, she was famous around the enclave, a strange Master made her even more intriguing, and how connected she was to the Force.

Her aura was strong, I felt it even at the delicate age of eight. "Thanks," I whispered and Revan smiled once more at me and walked away.

It was three years later when she left the Order. And three years later I didn't see her in the same awe as I had then.

Everyone knew that the Mandalorians had struck the Republic. And they had struck hard, hitting Revan's homeworld as one of the first. Maybe that was the fuel for Revan's decision to ignore the requests of the order and to run off and fight.

I didn't see the same way she did. I had new idols: the Jedi Masters. And when they cautioned inaction I listened to them, and ignored Revan's constant speeches of how the Mandalorians needed to be stopped.

One day, I had heard rumor of Malak recruiting Jedi in the basements on the enclave, and I left to listen. To hear what he had to say and to have the knowledge of my 'enemy'.

It was midnight and the halls were dark and every shadow seemed to be jumping out to me in the silence. My footsteps were the only sounds I heard as I quietly crept around the enclave, and finally heard quiet voices.

I opened the door and walked inside. I received glances from Padawans and Knights alike. There were around six in the room, in a line in front of the Jedi who was clearly Malak.

He was tall and impressive, with no hair and a strong build. He had a ferocity in his dark eyes that seemed to grow as he spoke. And I listened to his words and was almost swayed.

"The Mandalorians have struck again and again these past few weeks," he said, his words strong and said with a passion I hadn't heard before. "They need to be stopped before the galaxy falls beneath their feet! The Republic can only hold them off so long, they need the Jedi. Join Revan and I as we fight this threat, and as we stop them once and for all. What happened to guardians of the peace and protectors of the innocents? Isn't that what we Jedi are? Then why do we sit and wait! The Masters serve no one with their talk of peace if they cannot fight for that peace! Who is with me?"

One by one the Jedi called out their allegiances and stood beside Malak. I was left alone by the door as all the Jedi stood in a line beside Malak now.

"Bastila Shan," Malak acknowledged me. "The young Jedi rumored to have the power of Battle Meditation. Why have you come? You are too young to fight."

"I came to hear what you had to say," I told him. "I wanted to know why you would defy the council and their wishes. Why you would commit this blasphemy!"

"The council is wrong!" cried Malak in defiance. "We are doing what is right!"

"Are you so certain?" I said in a low tone. "I may be young, but I understand and respect the council's wishes. You are being too brash, too bold. You and Revan both! Perhaps you are the ones in the wrong."

Malak looked down at me with something akin to defeat. "Stand by what you believe Bastila, but we are going to fight."

I left the room then, ran to my small bedroom and sat on my bed, laying my head down on my pillow and wishing sleep to come. But it wouldn't. Malak's words had shaken me, made me reconsider what I had been thinking.

_And people say Revan is persuasive… no wonder the Masters were so confused when she spoke to them._

Finally, after tossing and turning for hours, sleep came at last.

And Revan and Malak did leave and fight. Over the years of the Mandalorian Wars, where the Jedi fought back the Mandalorians side by side with the Republic, I forgot what Malak had said and the sudden impulse to join him and Revan. I stood by the council, and I would stay standing by them.

For a time that was.


	9. Drunk Actualities

Title: Drunk Actualities  
Genre: Humor  
Main Character(s): Mira, Atton Rand, Mical/Disciple  
Rating: K/PG  
Disclaimer: I take no credit for the characters or Star Wars or the plot in general that I'm borrowing from.  
Date written: January, 16, 2006

**Drunk Actualities**

Atton Rand stared at the redhead across the table from him. No wait, there were two redheads… no three redheaded bounty hunters…

"Mira, since when are you a part of three triplets?" asked Atton, his spoken words not exactly as intelligent or as clever as they had been in his head.

"Atton, there's only one of me," snorted Mira, who had been taking a sip of the alcohol she held in her hand before spitting it back out, laughing. "You know, this is the way to go. There's no way we're getting off this planet alive with the ship like it is. Bao-Dur had better learn that it's a lost cause."

Atton snickered though nothing was really funny in this situation. "Just because he can't walk he doesn't want to get piss drunk enough to not be able to walk. He's the only one with a serious injury; the rest of us can get alcohol impaired and be happy like that." Atton jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Except him. That damn kid won't touch this stuff."

Mira looked over at the Disciple, heading towards the engine room, apparently to help T3-M4 continue repairing the ship and snorted. "He's missing out." Atton shook his head mournfully, causing his whole body to shake and whiskey to slip out all over his trousers. Atton cursed but Mira just laughed raucously.

"Very smooth Rand," she giggled. Mira stared at her cup. How many ales had she drunken now? Ten? Fifteen? Twenty? She had lost count a while ago. But there was no reason to stop drinking.

Atton yawned and downed the rest of the cup he was holding, dropping it onto the floor where it smashed into pieces. "I usually don't get so piss drunk, but you know, why not drink myself into whatever happens. The ship's broken down, Bao-Dur thinks he can fix it, and the kid and the droid are helping him while everyone else is missing."

Mira raised an eyebrow. "You know, Bao-Dur probably would have died if I hadn't come back here. You better be glad I didn't go after her."

Atton sighed. "Sucks I never got to sleep with her and we're all just going to die." Mira spit out her drink and laughed at him, but Atton only glared. Apparently alcohol only increased his broody manner when he was with anyone besides the Exile. Mira remembered fondly the time, not very long ago at all, when he had gotten drunk on Nar Shaddaa with the Exile, Sienna Vaas, and eventually the two had done more than make up but made out.

Mira snickered to herself at the memory and Atton shot her a look. "You changed the topic from Bao-Dur's life being saved by me to you shagging our leader Atton, that's quite a leap."

Laughing despite himself, Atton stood up on the table and bowed. "It's the talent that comes from being really, truly drunk." His eyes slanted sideways as the Disciple came back into the room and shot a disapproving glance at the two drunks in the room.

"Aw, come on Mical, you know you want to taste the alcohol running through your veins and empowering you before you die!" Mira shouted after him as he began to leave the room.

"I've had a drink before, I'm just not very fond of it," Mical told the pair but Mira simply tutted.

"I didn't say you never had a drink before Mic, but don't you want to get piss drunk before you die? And who better to get piss drunk with than us?" Mical was still frowning and Mira stood up, the whiskey bottle in hand and leaned in close to Mical, her breath stank with alcohol. "There's nothing wrong with having a little fun before we're all dead. Bao-Dur's going to blow the planet to smithereens and this ship will fall into the depths of Malachor and we'll all be dead. Might as well be drunk and already unconscious when we die."

Her eyes were unfocused and this made Mical frown further. He shook his head and walked out of the room. Atton raised an eyebrow at Mira who just shrugged and fell back down onto the couch in the main hold. "Poor boy's probably never even gotten laid in his life… the poor, deprived kid."

"I bet you want to solve that," Atton sniggered.

Mira spat out her drink. She still wasn't drunk enough to find that idea appealing. "Me sleep with the Disciple? Poor boy wouldn't know what hit him."

Atton snorted. "Very sure of ourselves aren't we?"

"I call it self-confidence," stated Mira simply before downing more whiskey, straight from the bottle. "Plus, he's not the type I like for that area. I like other types of men, not prettyboys like the Disciple." Atton snickered. "Or assholes like you," Mira added and Atton scowled.

"I didn't ask you to sleep with me," said Atton. "In fact, you don't have to sleep with Mical either. Just get him in here, get him drunk, let's see what happens, why don't we?" His eyes flickered mischievously before slipping out of focus again.

Mira smirked. "That actually sounds like a sound plan. Too bad we couldn't get someone like Visas drunk, I wonder if she'd throw off that head thingy that she always wears. I wonder if she has hair," she mused thoughtfully. "If she does, I wonder what it looks like… she probably has head thingy hair if she does, all messed up. I wonder if she even likes alcohol…"

"Mira, shut up," muttered Atton, grabbing a new whiskey bottle as Mira had sucked thoughtfully on the other one while she spoke until it was drained. "Visas isn't going to get drunk. Bao-Dur isn't going to get drunk. But the kid, he might. And personally, I'd find it all amusing if you and him starting hitting on each other while drunk."

"Looking to get your revenge for when I caught you and Sienna hitting on each other while drunk?" asked the redhead. Atton scowled again and uncorking the new bottle, poured himself a new drink. "Believe me, even drunk I wouldn't find the Disciple appealing enough. I'm pretty drunk right now and I don't find him appealing."

Atton sucked on his cup thoughtfully, staring in the direction that Mical had left the room. "I bet he's more fun when he's drunk, not as hung up on Sienna and not as uptight."

The redhead snorted again, sending more alcohol onto the floor in front of her (it was already quite wet from a few spilled drinks) and watched as Mical passed through the room again. "He's too uptight to bother getting drunk, Atton, it's worthless even trying."

Mischievous eyes glimmered as Atton watched Mical pause by the door and give a small look towards Mira and Atton. "Bao-Dur says that the ship is doing better. If T3 can find enough spare parts lying around, we might be able to lift her up and leave the planet. We could send a distress call." Mira looked over at the Disciple. He wasn't frowning as disapprovingly as he had been before, now he was simply looking a bit crestfallen.

"You're doubting what Bao-Dur claims, aren't you?" Mira asked him. Mical looked at her and nodded.

"As hopeful as it sounds that we'll survive this, I'm not sure we will. In fact, I even doubt we will." Mical frowned now, a hopeless frown and with a jerk of her head, Mira ushered him to sit down with her and Atton. This time, he didn't raise any objections and sat down next to Mira on the couch. Not even asking, she shoved a cup into his hands.

"Cheers," said Atton, raising his glass. Mira (rather clumsily) and Mical (not too enthusiastically) both lifted their glasses to touch Atton's before each drank their own ale.

Mical drank down the liquor quickly enough, but he didn't speak at all and was silent while Mira made horrible jokes that made little sense, as she broke off into fits of laughter before reaching the punch line, and she bickered with Atton. Whenever the topic of dying soon came up, Mical would wince but would say nothing and simply take another swig of his drink.

"Hey Mic," asked Mira about an hour later. "What made you change your mind and drink with us? I am sure that helping Bao-Dur out would have made you more confident that this ship would actually work."

The Disciple looked at Mira and blinked; he was surprised she spoke to him right then. He was sure she had forgotten he was there. "Bao-Dur seemed optimistic; I never felt that we would live past this. And even if we did… the Exile might not."

"She has a name," growled Atton, breaking into the conversation with a slam of his empty glass on the table between them. "Her name is Sienna. Not 'The Exile' as you and that Admiral guy think, just like everybody else in the whole fracking galaxy."

"It's a title she wears," Mical returned, an icy quality to his voice. "Just as I wear the title of Disciple and you wear the title of Jedi Knight. It's a part of her, whether you like it or not." His cup, tight in his grasp, began to break slightly and he looked down at the glass and pushed it aside. It slid off the table and broke.

Atton blinked, obviously surprised to have heard Mical talk to him like that. "You're not answering my question though, Mical or Disciple or whatever you want to be," said Mira, breaking into the middle so that a fistfight wouldn't ruin their last hours alive. "You've always been the guy who doesn't care how hopeless something is, you're going to keep trying. Like how much you cared for Sienna, and Atton don't start smirking because you might have gotten her, but you're still a dumbass."

"These very well may be the last couple hours we live," said Mical slowly, sipping on a new glass of ale Mira had poured for him while she spoke. "You were right: why should I bother at a fruitless attempt when I could be sucking down ale. Of course, it hasn't made me feel much better and currently I wish I hadn't sat down."

Mira watched Mical try to stand up, stumble, and fall back onto the couch, his head drooping.

"Don't hold your ale too well, Mic?" asked Mira as Mical leaned over the back of the couch and threw up. Atton blanched before grabbing his cup and sipping on it and Mira shot him a dirty look. "It's alright; I guess Atton and I are just used to getting drunk. Atton probably more so." Atton mimed laughing heartily and then showed Mira a rude hand gesture.

"No, being a Jedi and later a historian and scientist for the Republic, you don't end up in many cantinas drunk," stated Mical.

Mira looked at Mical and then over at Atton. "I do hope though, that if we die soon, things are clear between us, Atton," stated Mical suddenly, breaking away from his attitude he had possessed as of late and into his normal mood quickly. "I'd prefer to die with no grudges."

Atton looked over at Mical and looked him up and down. "Whatever, I've got nothing to hate you for, I suppose, since there won't be a Sienna for both of us to care about too much soon enough." Mical nodded fairly.

"I wonder what its like to be dead," pondered Mira, breaking into the boys' truce. "To be 'one with the Force' as the Jedi put it."

Atton looked at Mira and jerked her cup towards her. "She needs more ale. Discussions like that don't belong here when we're still alive." Mira smirked and drank down the ale. Her eyes slipped out of focus and she slid down on the couch a bit. It was a moment before she noticed Atton and Mical had done the same thing.

"What the frack?" exclaimed Atton as all the ale bottles and glasses fell off the table. Mira looked at Atton, eyes wide and then over at Mical.

T3-M4 came rolling through the room at that moment. He uttered a few beeps, which only Atton seemingly understood (whose eyes grew wide), before heading towards the engine room.

"The tin can says we're falling and that we're probably going to become spare parts," translated Atton.

Mira grabbed at an ale bottle on the floor, but it had broken. She cursed at the liquid now running all over the floor and had a wild thought to lick it all up. She ignored it, however, as that floor was downright disgusting.

"So we're going to die now, right?" asked Mira to no one in particular. Neither of the boys answered her. "Now's the moment. The ship's about to fall, the ale's all gone; even Mical here has given up hope that we'll survive. Time to say goodbye to this galaxy and watch the rocks fly by as we dip into the heart of Malachor where we all die." She giggled involuntarily at the rhyme she had made, but heartened up the next moment.

"I guess this is the end. Let's just hope Sienna took care of that old witch when she got the chance," said Atton, pale-faced and tight-lipped.

The ship jolted again and for a few terse minutes there was silence among the three drunks. Mira had been expecting that by this time Atton would be making a few wild suggestions that she would sarcastically agree too. Nar Shaddaa Pazaak, wild drinking games, jumping out of the ship into the jagged rocks, but none were made and there was just the worst silence in all of Mira's life.

And then the sensation of falling came. The ship was rapidly falling, Mira could feel it. Next to her Mical tensed and across the fallen table Atton stared at the broken alcohol bottles on the floor. Mira knew he was wishing that he had had more moments with the Exile.

_And what do I regret in life?_ asked Mira to herself.

_Having the worst headache I've ever had the moment I die_, she answered.

Mira couldn't help but snort in laughter. Despite they were all going to die in a few moments, they were all still quite drunk. "Mic, have you ever even gotten laid in your life?" Mical looked over at Mira incredulously, but then he laughed.

"Laid, as you so elooquint… I mean so eluquiet… I mean you so… _well_ put it," Mical stammered through the word, "Do you really want me to answer that question?" Mira nodded and laughed while Atton simply snorted. "Er… yes."

"I can't believe I was wrong!" Mira wailed.

"I'd have put money on his answer if we weren't about to die and if I had any credits," snickered Atton. "Any normal male, even if the kid isn't exactly that normal in my book, has had sex in his life Mira, even a Jedi."

Mical groaned. "This is not the conversation I ever expected to have the moment before I died."

The ship jerked again. This was a different jerk however… it felt like the ship was fighting gravity and almost lifting upwards… "Did you guys feel that?" asked Mira. _Did Bao-Dur actually fix the ship? Are we actually not going to die?_

This was too much for Mira's drunken mind to comprehend. Her headache began to ache even worse than before, a feat she hadn't thought possible, and she shoved Mical aside, trying to stand up to find Bao-Dur to see if he had succeeded in fixing the ship.

But there was no mistake about it as the ship began moving upwards quite well. Mira slid side to side and fell back onto Mical with a groan. Atton laughed raucously and soon enough Mira and Mical joined in. It was contagious. They weren't going to die.

They were still piss drunk though, which explained why they couldn't stop laughing and not long after they did, they fell unconscious.

XxXxX

_It didn't turn out as expected, but oh well. -shrug-_


	10. Rule Number One

Title: Rule Number One  
Genre: Humor  
Main Character(s): Male Revan, Master Kae  
Rating: K/PG  
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me. Aw, I know, it's horrible.  
Date written: January, 16, 2006

**Rule Number One**

Forbidden things at a Jedi Temple rarely were not in the temple. To the average elder Padawan, rules were made to be broken. The rule of no liquor allowed was often broken.

Of course, sixteen-year-old Revan broke this rule as well as most of his fellow Padawans stuck at the Temple whose masters had been either called back or didn't have a mission to go on. He and his friends, their actions unknown to the masters, had fetched a fine few bottles of ale (Corellian, Tarisian, Telosian and other sorts as well) and brought them into the Temple. They, along with a few friends, had spent the previous night drinking the ale down.

Now that Revan was called by his Master for early morning training, Revan greatly resented drinking the previous night. Master Kae was surely not so stupid and she would easily see that he was drunk. As Revan had only had Master Kae as his Master for a few days (his first Master had been requested to negotiate in the Outer Rim with the Mandalorians, attacking more frequently now, and could not bring a young Padawan like Revan along) he was not sure how she would react to seeing Revan so hung over.

Walking through the doors into the Room of a Thousand Fountains, Revan spotted Master Kae meditating on a boulder by one soft waterfall. Her legs were crossed and her eyes were closed. Her face betrayed no emotions. iThat'll change when she figures out that I broke the rules and can't train today…/i

She opened her eyes and spotted Revan standing a few feet away. "Ah… Padawan, you got my message. I think that since the Council does not have a need for us immediately we should spend the day keeping in shape. Some meditation, followed by a few rounds of sparring before lunch. After that… well, we'll see how we feel about anything else."

Revan thought he saw a knowing look cross Master Kae's features, but he must have imagined it as her eyes were closed again within an instant and her face just as serene as it had been before.

iWhat? Doesn't she notice I'm barely standing still without tipping? Isn't she going to chastise me? Or does she really not notice/i

Either Master Kae was a very good actress or she clearly couldn't see a thing. Either way, Revan didn't really care as long as he could survive the day without collapsing. Hoisting himself up onto a nearby boulder, Revan steadied himself and listened to his heartbeat, one method of meditation he had learned from his former master.

A long while passed before Revan woke up. Apparently, he had fallen asleep after starting meditation. Once Revan opened his eyes, he felt a blinding surge of light and saw Master Kae looking down on him, expressionless.

"Padawan, that is rule number five: no falling asleep during meditation or doing anything but meditate," said Master Kae, reaching out a slender hand with long fingers for Revan to grasp. With her help, he stood up and blinked. She was shorter than he had expected, almost a whole foot shorter than him in comparison.

"What rules are you referring to, Master?" asked Revan, squinting his eyes in annoyance at the lights shining from the ceiling of the Room of a Thousand Fountains.

"The rules that I put forward for any Padawan I ever take," replied Master Kae, beginning to walk towards the exit of the room. "If you wish to stay my Padawan and stay my respected Padawan at that, I suggest you follow the five most important rules I have. I have to say though, that number one is most important."

"What is rule number one?" asked Revan as he followed her out of the room. The sound of rushing water began fading. "What are the other four rules?"

"We will get to those in due time, young Padawan," said Master Kae, tonelessly. "I think now is time for the blindfold test. I decided to change our schedule a bit. Morning seems to be a time of relaxation while I am sure you are at your prime later in the day. We will spar after lunch and study in the archives before. I am sure you know much that is in the archives, but we will still take a look, eh?"

Revan followed Master Kae along in the hallways of the Temple in silence after their short conversation. Not too much later, they arrived in a chamber filled with broken droids and working ones alike. A few cleaning droids were dragging the broken ones out of the room.

Standing in the center of the chamber, Revan unsheathed his lightsaber. Master Kae pulled a blindfold off of a hanger on the wall by the door. She tied the blindfold around Revan's face, making sure that he couldn't see.

The only sense Revan had been able to rely on that day, was now gone. iFrack.i/i

It was completely dark then. Master Kae's voice said something, but Revan couldn't understand it, it was all very fuzzy. Then he heard the buzzing of droids activating. But after that, silence. He ignited his lightsaber. A blaster bolt hit him in the ankle. He needed to concentrate. Calling upon the Force to guide his currently impaired sight, Revan could sense where the droids were, where they were moving. He slashed out and heard a clanking sound. One was down. Grinning, Revan flourished his lightsaber in triumph. Another droid hit him with a blaster bolt in the back. It was at low power, so it only stung a little.

But it did damage Revan's pride a bit. Eventually, Revan turned all the droids into scrap piles, but Master Kae was frowning.

"You made a mistake in the beginning, Padawan," said Master Kae. "That's rule number two: never get cocky; it may cost you your life." She took a look at Revan's back. "Or your robes in this case." Frowning, Revan took off his outer robe and surely enough it had a hole singed in it.

Sighing inwardly, Revan put his robe back on. His impaired mind still ached from the concentration it took to sense the droids around him. But Master Kae wasn't waiting for him and Revan had to hurry to catch up to her. Despite her lack of height, she walked quickly.

She led him next to the Jedi Archives. Revan smirked to himself. If there was anything in the Jedi Temple he understood it was the history. He knew so many of the texts by heart and knew the stories of ancient Jedi and their battles with the great evils of the universe and the formation of the code. Of course, he had to follow Master Kae's rules. He couldn't get cocky. He had to act humble.

"We are going to look at a section most Jedi didn't bother looking at until a few years ago," stated Master Kae simply as she led Revan through the aisles of the Archives. "The Jedi have scrounged together a history on most races in this galaxy and today we are going to look at the Mandalorians."

"What's to know about them?" Revan scoffed, before realizing he could be treading on rule number two. "I'm sorry, Master."

Master Kae gave Revan a sizing look. "No, please, do go on Padawan. I do wish you would speak your mind. That is rule number four, except, of course, at the most inappropriate situations. Right now, however, is a perfect situation for a discussion of opinion."

Revan shifted uneasily. "I just mean that the Mandalorians that the galaxy is facing currently don't seem to care about anything. They just like killing and capturing slaves and they need to be stopped. It doesn't seem very complicated, Master."

"And all who look at Jedi see us as a race who are do-gooders and want to make the galaxy perfect just like we are," said Master Kae with a small smile. Revan began to open his mouth to speak, but Master Kae cut him off. "Dear Padawan, please do not judge other races so harshly. That is rule number three. You must not determine what a race, person, organization or planet is like without really delving into that race, person, organization or planet. To you the Mandalorians seem to like nothing more than murder. To others, the Jedi are peace-nuts who think we are the elite. You know that is not true just as I do, but to an outsider?"

"I see your point, Master, forgive me." Revan bowed his head slightly in respect and Master Kae returned the gesture.

"Simply keep my rules in mind in the future Padawan," she explained.

Revan frowned. "That was only four rules… what's rule number one?"

"We will get to that one, I assure you," said Master Kae. She looked at the chromo on her wrist. "We had better delve into the foreign culture of the Mandalorians first though if we want to keep our schedule."

By lunch Revan had decided he had figured Master Kae out. She was strict and fair but forgiving of first time offenses. She didn't care too much for him personally but simply wanted to make sure he was alive and not being cocky, judgemental, secretive with his thoughts or sleeping during meditation.

At lunch, Master Kae left him to go visit the council and Revan found himself eating alongside Malak and a few others who had gotten drunk with him the previous night.

"Come on Revan, if she didn't figure out you were hungover earlier, who's saying she'll figure out if you have a couple swigs right now?" one of the boys, Jaid, was insisting. He had kept one of the bottles for himself the previous night and after Revan explained his rather bad morning, Jaid and the others were daring him to have a bad afternoon as well.

"I'm pretty sure she knew, she just didn't feel like busting me," Revan insisted. He was happy to be eating something though; it made his head hurt less. After reading information on the Mandalorians, Master Kae had thought it wise to quiz him on everything to make sure he had absorbed the material. Trying to remember things he didn't really care about made his head feel uncomfortably heavier and bigger.

"Just a few swigs Rev!" hissed Jaid, prodding Revan with the bottle under the table.

Frowning, Revan thought about it for a moment. It wouldn't ihurt/i to have one drink. Revan nodded and Jaid silently cheered Revan on as the group slinked out of the dining hall.

By the time Revan showed up for the sparring match Master Kae had assigned Revan (he was sparring against another Padawan) he had had quite a few drinks, actually, but somehow made sure he stood steadily. Master Kae stared at him scrupulously as she greeted him, but seemed to approve. Revan wondered how he had fooled his master twice in one day. He must've been very lucky. Or the Force must have been with him, as the Jedi didn't believe in luck.

Of course, he didn't feel like the Force was with him or that he was lucky once the spar began.

The Padawan he was sparring against was a girl a year younger than him who was apparently very talented with the lightsaber. She wielded a double-bladed saber, actually, that shone a bright blue. Revan felt weak within the first five minutes of the spar, which made him feel ashamed. He was going to lose to a igirl/i who was iyounger/i than himself.

But he didn't even make it to the end of the duel. He collapsed and fell unconscious after around eight minutes of sparring. As he came to, the girl was being talked to by her master (as the Padawan threw disgusted looks over at Revan) and Master Kae was standing right in front of him.

"I think you can guess what rule number one is by now," she said as Revan began to try and lift himself up. After taking two minutes to stand up steadily enough so that he wouldn't need a crutch, Revan nodded.

"Don't get drunk?"

"The rule is actually not to be an idiot, but I believe that getting drunk, especially on premises where it's illegal and when you are going to be doing something worthwhile the next day, is rather idiotic on its own," explained Master Kae. "I might make a sixth rule though, specifically not to get drunk, simply because of you Padawan."

Revan grinned slightly at Master Kae. He thought he had her figured out, but the small woman seemed to have more to her than met the eye.

"Does this mean I can retire for the afternoon, Master?" asked Revan hopefully.

"I suppose you've suffered enough," she answered, nodding her head. "Just be sure to drink lots of water and perhaps take some meds before you fall asleep again."

Revan nodded and bowed to his master. "I shall do as you say, Master."


	11. Her

Title: Her  
Genre: Drama/Romance/Angst  
Main Character(s): Disciple/Mical  
Rating: K/G  
Disclaimer: The characters and the story… nope not mine. I take no credit.  
Date written: February 25, 2006

**Her**

She was a dream. An image of the perfection we all strived for… or maybe just a few of us strived for. I know I wanted that perfection. I wanted more than anything to be just like her, brave, bold, exciting, wonderful, skilled, and the list can go on forever.

To achieve that level of greatness, I had to work so hard. I worked my butt off each and every day so that perhaps I could see her again, reach her same level and be able to come even close to competing with her. I secretly wished that the war would go on longer, just so that I could be old enough to fight beside her and perhaps she'd praise me for my talents.

As a young boy, I had the dreams of saving her life in an epic battle, only to realize that I might never get to do that. I realized that I might not ever see her again. And as much as I wanted to be her hero, to be equal to her, to be even close to that height of greatness, reality struck me hard in the face when the wars ended and greater problems arrived.

The rumors spread quickly, like wildfire, and it didn't take long for us to know that the Jedi from the wars had decided to turn against the galaxy. All save one.

Before I even heard the rumors, before I even discovered the truth, I knew it had to be her. She was too astonishing, too compelling, too flawless to turn on the galaxy she had just saved. I would not ever believe, be it true or not, that she fought against us.

But I didn't need to worry about her anymore. I had to worry about myself. The Jedi were diminishing and I was sent away in the process. I had nowhere to go, nothing to do. But there were recommendations, and a person with my skills and connection to the Force, many people would accept me into their workplaces.

It just happened to be that the Republic took me in, just becoming a man in his late teenage years, and there I found a new place for myself. I worked hard under the command of great men and women, all of which reminded me of her, the most perfect creature to ever live in this galaxy. She wasn't just anything. She was my drive and my power. I worked hard with the desire to one day be her hero, the same dream I had had as a young boy I had as a young man.

When someone was to be sent to Dantooine to examine the ruins, I was enthusiastic to do so. Some of us in the Republic were learning that Jedi were secretly re-entering the galaxy and currently there was a hunt for her, a sort of extremely important mission to find her.

I hoped that if I went to Dantooine, perhaps she might come too. It was a twisted sort of reality, but the Force was guiding me still and so I went to Dantooine.

And my twisted dreams came true. There she stood, in front of me and I bowed to her, wishing to show her even more respect and deep admiration than I felt it was possible to show. I wanted to tell her that she was this pure and perfected image I had carried in my heart all these years and how much I wanted to be her hero.

I could not tell her these things. I had to show her. I followed her from one end of the galaxy to the other, tolerating the others on board and doing everything I could to protect her, to be her hero, despite the others that frowned upon it and tried to knock me down. I would not let her suffer or falter. I would never let any harm come to her, the woman that the Jedi had exiled.

And I saw in her the perfection I always had. The Jedi had exiled her and though she walked with a heavy burden on her shoulders, she was this perfect image still, helping all that she good, redeeming the fallen, praising the brave, enthralling all of us. We were all drawn to her vivacity and way of living through all these things that threatened to drag her down.

She ilived/i, I tell you, ilived/i more than I ever thought she would. I had seen her before, I had idolized her, but to see her perfection come alive and not only be imperfect but be imperfect and human in a way that made me revere her even more.

I do not know how it happened, but somewhere along the way to wanting to be her hero, I wanted more than that. There was a part of me that always wanted to save her from the threats she faced, the physical threats that she faced, but even after I had helped to protect her from these things, I felt incomplete. My purpose to her had not been fulfilled and my deepest desires had not yet been quenched.

I was confused, to say the least, and worried that perhaps I hadn't been the hero like I should have been. Perhaps she didn't want a hero, but I didn't know. She was the real hero of the situation, this I knew, but one can still dream of being her knight in shining armor, can't one?

The day came for her to face the Jedi Council back on Dantooine and I could do nothing but think of her as she went to see the Council. This burning desire in me to follow her arose, but I couldn't do a thing about it unless I wanted to break the promise I made to remain behind. I could not break a promise I made to her. She might forgive me, but I never would.

Crazy notions flew through my head. I wanted to convince her that she didn't need the acceptance of the Council, whether she got it or not, I wanted to tell her that none of this mattered, not really, and that she didn't need to be an official Jedi to save the galaxy.

She said she wanted to know what was wrong with her. That's why she went to see the Council. But I was convinced that there was not a single thing wrong with her. She was perfect. She was the perfection I always wanted, but had never achieved.

I was frightened when I saw her return. I hid. I ran away like a coward when I saw her approaching the ship. I didn't want to face her and to ask her what had happened. She had been limping. I wondered what had happened. I was angry with the Council, angry with the galaxy, angry with the other Jedi that had followed Revan and Malak to war, and I blamed each and every one of them for all her suffering. And I blamed myself, for not being there, for not protecting her.

I could no longer ignore her. She had gone into her dormitory, but I could not just let her sit there without knowing what had gone wrong and helping her.

Yes. That is what I really wanted. To help her. Whatever I could do to help her, I wanted to do. Whether it is to take a blaster shot for her or to leave her sight forevermore, I would do it. I would want to do it. Though the latter would break my heart, if that is what she wanted, I would give it to her.

As I opened the door, I saw a sight I never imagined I would ever see. Her perfection seemed weaved with her extreme beauty, the deep tones of her face, covered in painful-to-see wet tears and her dark brown hair was a mess, one hand continuously running through it, making it far worse. Her eyes… now that is what broke my heart in that moment.

I had never seen her weakened and frightened before, truly frightened and weakened that is. She may have fallen in battle, needing a helping hand to pick her up, and she may have been petrified at horrible odds, but seeing her beautiful large brown eyes as horribly saddened as hers were made the anger in me rise up again, prepared to do the first thing she asked me to do. But at this moment, even if she wished it, I knew I would never leave her side until I no longer existed in a world where such a thing was possible.

But she did not order me away. She cried harder and the tears would not stop spilling from her usually hardened eyes. I stepped forward, not knowing what else to do, and I held her as tightly as I could. She sobbed into my neck harder and harder and told me all that the Council had told her. She wept about the tales they had weaved to make her believe she was at fault.

"I am but a wound in the Force, Mical," she told me between hiccoughs. Her voice was faltering, this stunning yet strong voice that had commanded us in battle and connected us to her in a way never imaginable before, with the Force as our link, we were all attached to her flawlessness and it channeled through us, an inspiration to be like her.

"You think you are at fault to be able to inspire us so?" I asked her. "You are very wrong then, very wrong indeed. I have never felt better in body or spirit than when I have been with you. Never in my life have I felt so complete, and I am sure that the others would agree with me. The Council does not matter, their opinion does not matter, their words do not matter, their venom and spite for you does not matter. All that matters," and with this I pulled her back from me and held her chin so that she looked into my eyes. My heart continued to shatter as I saw the horrible pain she felt inside of her look deep inside of me. "All that matters," I repeated, "is that we would do anything for you. Anything you ever asked.

"We love you." She smiled then, a brilliant smile that sent shivers up my spine. "All I've ever wanted is to love you and help you and protect you. And if I must protect you from yourself, from the pain you feel inside of you, instruct me how and I will do so."

She laughed quietly. "Oh, dearest Mical, you think too highly of me to want to help me so."

And I shook my head at this. "You get the respect you deserve from us… from me. You are a great and admirable woman. You deserve this. You deserve our desires to help you."

But within my heart I was, at this moment, beginning to realize that I desired not only to be the Exile's hero… but to have her feel the same way about me. The same desire I had always had to be worthy of her respect and to be possibly even be her equal was replaced with a greater desire to be able to have her love and care for me as much as I loved and cared for her.

The most perfected woman in the galaxy was my greatest desire. I did not want her as a prize or as riches and spoils, but I wanted her because she was everything I wanted to be, everything anybody should aspire to be.

And whether or not the Council saw her fit to be a Jedi, in my eyes, she was always the perfect Jedi. And even more important than that, she was the perfect creature.

I know that my words of her may seem to some to be a grand exaggeration, but I swear upon the Great and Powerful Will of the Force that there is no woman who can top the Exile. She is the epitome of the Force. The only wound in the Force she could ever be responsible for is that she is more perfect than any other creature the Force touched, therefore causing a new layer of the Force to need to be created, a new level of the Force in which only she resides.

You claim that I say these words because I love her. And that is true. But I must ask if it is possible not to love such a creature, because if that it is then I have never known a worse fate.


	12. Memento Vivere

Title: Memento Vivere  
Genre: Drama  
Main Character(s): Mira, Visas Marr  
Rating: K/PG  
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me and they never will. I take no credit for their existence… or non-existence.

Date written: May 27, 2006

(Thanks to Cora for her awesome beta-ing and assistance with the title and little italic bit below.)

XxXxX

_Don't angst is you're not going to die; do something if you're still alive._

XxXxX

She still felt so afraid. Why had she done it? Why had she refused to murder the beast that had so long frightened her senseless? Why did she simply walk away from the mess that had been chasing her for years?

iBecause of her, no doubt. It all started with her. She opened your eyes; she made you see beyond your simple life, beyond the struggles within yourself to the struggles outward. It's so pathetic you had to be rescued by a stupid Jedi woman… you couldn't even take care of yourself, you needed a rescuer. And now, when you could take care of things yourself, now that you can handle yourself, you fracking let him go… what were you thinking/i

Sweat was trickling down the back of her neck. She felt like her hair was standing on end by each time she would try and pat down the pile of blazing red hair it would be flat and her gloved hands would touch slightly damp hair. The humidity in this place was murderous. iMaybe it'll be enough to kill that giant furball…/i

But for some reason, the new Jedi walked along the surface of Malachor V feeling somewhat relieved. For some reason, she felt she wouldn't have to deal with her past anymore. No more Hanharr… no more bounty hunting. It was all up from here. Maybe.

Maybe not.

Mira trudged along the rocky slopes of Malachor, looking desperately for where the ship may have landed. How she ended up unconscious on some rocky part of the planet was unknown to her, but she couldn't have been far from the iEbon Hawk/i. She had to have landed nearby. She was lucky she was alive. She wondered if the others were okay.

She spotted the ship and felt quite relieved that she could stop walking and perhaps take a soothing shower. She was sweating all over on the insides of her armor and clothing. It was rather disgusting when she thought about it.

Her mind had drifted away to curious thoughts about her shipmates. They had to have all been alright. If something had happened to one of them, something must have gone wrong. Maybe somebody was injured and they needed her help.

Coming closer to the ship, Mira was certain somebody was going to need her help. It looked like a horrible wreck. iAnother fabulous landing, courtesy of Atton Rand/i she thought to herself, smirking at the thought. He was never a great pilot. Perhaps he had been drinking every time he tried to land. Maybe his mind had been on other things. Maybe he just stunk. Was he alright? Was he trying to fix the ship?

If all else failed, Bao-Dur would fix the ship. That Zabrak was insane in his abilities to fix anything up. Mira recalled the incident a few weeks ago when she had "accidentally" broken some wire within HK-47 that stopped him from working. Good old Bao-Dur had fixed the droid right away… on the Exile's orders of course. Why else would the Iridonian have done it?

The ship seemed like it was about to fall into the crevice below. It would surely fall once Mira set foot on board. Then again, if the other shipmates were moving quickly to fix things up then it would have fallen ages ago. Were they all dead? Were they all unconscious? The Exile would have been gone by now had she been awake. What possessed that woman to do what she had done was unknown to Mira. The resolve in the woman's eyes… it made no sense to a different woman, a woman like Mira.

She was so close to the ship now, practically at the loading ramp. It was open. Somebody had to have exited by now. Somebody had to have been alive.

Hanharr wouldn't be alive. He'd be dead by now. Something must've killed him. iWhat if he beat me back here and is waiting inside/i

As the thought arrived in Mira's mind, she realized how long and what strain she had to use to make the idea appear. It wasn't a reflex anymore. Perhaps she was slowly healing from the scars that beast had left on her. She didn't call him a beast because of his species, but because of who he was. The aliens on board the iEbon Hawk/i weren't beasts to her. Bao-Dur was perfectly natural. And Visas… maybe she was natural. Mira had never really spoken to the Miraluka and only seen her time to time.

Was Visas alive?

Mira stepped up the loading ramp, her boots clanking along the way, metal against metal. She looked around the common area. T3-M4 was moving around, bustling from the cockpit to the control room, or so it would seem from the current condition and his pathway.

"Hello?" Mira called, stupidly, into the ship. There was no immediate answer. "Please tell me you all aren't dead," she muttered.

"I know I'm not," came a voice from one doorway, leading to the cockpit and security room. It was Atton Rand, the infamous pilot. "And I'm not sticking around here either."

"Oh that's great," scoffed Mira, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms. "Who's going to fly the ship? Me?"

Atton shrugged. "Whoever is still alive and can fly a ship, I suppose. I'm not hanging around here since she left." Mira knew he was talking about the Exile. "And she's not the only one to have left. The Disciple left too. Trying to iprotect/i her."

"And you think you're the one who can really protect her?" Mira asked, raising an eyebrow inquisitively.

"Yes…"

"I highly doubt you are more capable of helping the Exile than she is and still less capable than the Disciple," said Mira, cutting Atton off. Perhaps she seemed enraged that the men on the ship would do anything for the Exile and not even grab her a caffa mug, even when it wasn't out of their way. What drew men to the Exile instead of to her? It's not like she looked bad.

Atton seemed to realize what was annoying her. iDamn Force senses…/i "A little jealous, are we? I'm sure I could give you a little attention if you wanted," Atton remarked sarcastically, taking a swaggering step or two closer.

Mira scoffed again. "You've got to be kidding me. Go ahead, play your little hero role, but know that you are just leaving the rest of us to die and you're going to go die yourself. You're pathetic, Atton. She doesn't even care about you!"

Atton had begun to exit the ship by this point but he stopped and turned to look back around at her, his face looking a bit mad but also fearful that she was telling the truth. She knew she was. He probably knew she was. "You must know by now that I don't give in so easily." Then he whipped his body around and left the ship.

iGreat. That leaves the possibilities of Visas and Bao-Dur being around to help me. That's great. Why do guys have to play the heroes? Don't they know some girls hate that? I bet /ishei does./i

Sighing, Mira walked further into the ship. Soft footsteps were coming from the starboard dormitory. Mira froze and put her hand on her lightsaber, ready to pull it out within a second. But she relaxed as she saw the tattered robes of Visas enter the room, the hood pulled over her eyes and only a nose and large red lips surrounded by a creamy complexion were seen of Visas' natural body.

"It's you," she remarked in her soft tones. "Please, come quickly, he's not going to last much longer, but perhaps with two we can do something."

iBao-Dur…/i

Visas led Mira back into the starboard dormitory where Bao-Dur's body was lying in the midst of the floor. A trail of blood showed that Visas had dragged him there from elsewhere. She had set him on a blanket and wrapped a few of his wounds. His fake arm wasn't working any longer and his real one looked rather destroyed as well. His legs were covered and Mira did not want to look under the cloth anyways considering its odd position. His face was contorted in pain. Visas hadn't put him in a Force rest. She probably wouldn't dare. He'd probably have died anyways.

"What can I do?" asked Mira. It looked so hopeless. Her hopelessness showed through her voice. Visas 'looked' over at Mira from across Bao-Dur's corpse. They were both kneeled on different sides. Visas took Mira's hands and placed them on Bao-Dur's upper chest while Visas placed her hands over Mira's.

"Just try to convert as much life energy to him as possible without hurting yourself," whispered Visas. Visas wasn't listening to her own advice. Mira knew Visas was trying so hard she was hurting herself. It was a soft pain, a constant one someone endures for as long as they must. Mira did the same.

At this time she felt such a strong connection to Bao-Dur, such a strong connection to Visas and the Force, that she forgot almost everything else. The panic that had run through her body when Atton was leaving, when he stepped towards her, when Hanharr had just dueled her, when she had left Hanharr walk free, when she last remembered slipping off of a chair before waking up to Malachor V… all of the panic and the worry was gone from her and she just felt the Force and her friends.

It wasn't enough. Bao-Dur was fading too quickly. Mira felt it just as Visas did… and Bao-Dur died beneath their palms.

Mira opened her eyes, not realizing she had closed them. She looked up at Visas, her face stinging as tears made their way into her eyes.

"It's… not that it's because he died. It's because I think we're all going to die," Mira explained, trying to wipe the tears away as quickly as possible. They made her feel weak. But she hadn't felt anything but weak since the Exile had showed her the Force. No… before then. Mira had always felt weak. Always. Except… maybe when she had fought side by side with the Exile. At those times she felt so strong. And just now, attempting to save Bao-Dur's life… it was such a strong feeling.

"I didn't think anyone would die…" whispered Visas. "And if any of us were to die, I would've assumed it to be me."

Mira laughed; a throaty kind of laugh followed by a cough. "Don't be stupid; you're so much more capable than the rest of us, except maybe the Exile. We're all new to this while you've spent your whole life tied to this thing."

"It isn't easy though," Visas continued, "living your whole life attached to the Force. My kind is even more tied to the Force than plenty of Jedi are. We rely on it so heavily. Sometimes the ability to detach yourself from the Force and each time you use it to feel it so differently must be nice."

Mira shrugged. "Maybe it is. I never really thought about it." She looked down at Bao-Dur. He looked so pale… more pale than he usually did. He was so dead. It seems like such an odd phrase, but there was no chance that his body could be mistaken for a live one.

"I don't understand why this had to happen," muttered Mira, still trying desperately to stop crying. "Why death has to happen. It seems so pathetic, to live for a little while for anywhere from ten minutes to hundreds of years, and then just vanish. And what happens then? You know, I don't even really care. I just am sick of this. Maybe we should all follow Bao-Dur. Maybe it'd be nice to die."

Visas grabbed at Mira's hand that was about to rub her eyes again. "Stop. You're just causing yourself more pain by rubbing so hard. It's not going to help the other pain you're feeling. Mira… if it is time for us to die, we will die. But that doesn't mean we do nothing. If everyone was apathetic in everything they did, they'd all die sooner than they should have. I don't think anyone else on our crew aside from Bao-Dur is going to die today."

Mira laughed again. "I told you; you're so much more capable than the rest of us. You see things so much more accurately. I guess the Force helps huh?"

Visas smiled slightly. "Perhaps it does." She looked down at Bao-Dur and then back up at Mira. "Where are the others? I saw the Exile leave when she first did. She looked resolved to die. I don't think she will."

"The Disciple and Atton both left, even after I told Atton it was stupid of him to leave," replied Mira looking rather hatefully down at Bao-Dur's corpse.

"This hasn't been your first emotional experience of the day has it?" Mira shook her head. "We all have to face our demons one day. Lucky for Bao-Dur, he faced his before he died. Some people never do and they die unsatisfied. If you die today, you'll be satisfied now."

Mira looked up at Visas, rather surprised. Was that what had happened with Hanharr? Had she finally faced him for the time that would matter the most? Or was it just another stepping stone along the way to a greater confrontation? Would she ever reach this confrontation?

"What about you? Would you die satisfied?"

Visas looked a little surprised at the question. Maybe she thought of Mira as a bit more self-centered than to ask about another. But Mira cared. Maybe not as much as she should have to have asked such a question, maybe she had asked more to stop thinking about the future that may or may not be.

"I faced down my demons when I faced my past master and enslaver."

"Funny… I think I did too. In a sense."

Now Visas looked up from Bao-Dur's corpse and, in a way, the two women stared at each other. Such different women and yet they both faced the same challenges. Neither could fix this ship, both had beasts that had mistreated them and determined their every move… until they found the Exile.

"I suppose she's a liberator of sorts," said Visas quietly.

"Of sorts," mumbled Mira. Visas still held Mira's hand and the Miraluka noticed this and let Mira's hand go. It had been a soft grip Mira hadn't really noticed. Visas had always appeared to be calm and either in control or submissive. Lately, it had been in control. Her demeanor was to be gentle unless she must not be. Mira was so different, only being gentle when she had no other option.

"We shouldn't just leave him lying around," said Mira, standing up now.

Visas stood up as well but stopped Mira when she was about to move Bao-Dur's hand so that it was fully on the blanket and not dragging on the floor. "He muttered something to me before he could no longer speak," whispered Visas. "He said to activate his remote."

Mira pulled on a confused-looking face. What did the remote matter? Was Bao-Dur going to have the remote self-destruct so that as long as Bao-Dur no longer existed the remote wouldn't exist as well?

"Alright," she muttered and headed out of the room, leading the way to the garage where she suspected the remote was located. Visas followed. As they entered, they saw the remote sitting on the top shelf, looking rather secure surrounded by a few bars to keep it as in place as possible. Visas, being taller, removed the remote from the shelf and turned it on.

"He said to activate a program… 'generator-destruction' I think it was," recalled Visas as she grasped the remote in two hands and had Mira look at the small droid.

Digging through the memory of the droid, Mira found the program Bao-Dur had supposedly asked to be activated. Reading the description beyond the complicated matters, Mira could tell exactly what this program was for. The Mass Shadow Generator.

It seemed that Bao-Dur hadn't faced all his demons before he died.

Mira watched the droid as it whisked out of Visas' hands and exited the garage and she listened as the whirring sound died out in the distance, supposedly going about its tasks.

iDeath is so final/i thought Mira as she looked down at Bao-Dur's corpse. Visas and Mira had moved it from the starboard dormitory into the common area.

"I think he would've wanted to be buried someplace like Telos," spoke Visas softly. "He loved the planet. It used to be a beautiful planet. Malachor V is such an inappropriate grave for someone who hated the planet so much."

"Enough is buried here already," said Mira, agreeing. "And if we don't move fast, we may be too."

Visas nodded. She looked up at Mira and smiled slightly. "We're going to Telos then." Beyond the words, Mira could tell that Visas was not simply saying that they were going to try and leave the planet and go to Telos, that if they had anything to do with it, they were going to make it to Telos.

Mira smiled back, awkwardly. She had rarely ever interacted with Visas before or even a being like Visas. She was so strange and unique and yet so interesting and fantastical… it was amazing that Mira could speak with a creature like her.

Death could no longer worry Mira. She couldn't think about it. She refused to let herself think about it. All she thought about was how important it was to get the iEbon Hawk/i and Bao-Dur to Telos. She had faced Hanharr numerous times. Perhaps she had faced him for the last time. She had grown plenty. But, in her opinion, she had not reached her full potential yet.

Visas and Mira were going to work as hard as possible to reach Telos. Mira buried herself in that. All her thoughts on the matter of death were that she wasn't ready to die. She wasn't going to be one of those who died without being satisfied that Visas spoke of.

Today was not a good day to die. Maybe for Bao-Dur. But not for Mira. And not for Visas. There were more important matters at hand.

Like living.

_-DCC #20 (3rd place yay!)_


	13. Don't Go

Title: Don't Go  
Genre: Drama/Angst  
Main Character(s): Queen Talia  
Rating: K/G  
Disclaimer: Not mine, nope nope.  
Date written: June 24, 2006

XxXxX

**Don't Go**

XxXxX

_It was one thing to hire a new advisor, but to hire a new advisor that was a Jedi? Jedi didn't have ties to a single diplomat, they traveled to help all of them. And yet, Master Kavar had volunteered to become Talia's personal advisor, as long as she kept that he was a Jedi a secret and he didn't have to step in the limelight._

"_Welcome to the Onderonian court," said Talia, shaking his hand. Kavar bowed to the Queen. "I will be ready to attend the agricultural meeting in half an hour," she told him. "Come and find me then and we will go." Kavar nodded and Talia walked back to her dressing room._

_Kavar, however, did not completely understand everything about working in diplomatic affairs as an advisor. Though he was a Jedi, he was not accustomed to everything that happened in a palace. Most planets did not have a monarch anymore, with the exception of a few. And though Onderon often ran like a democracy, there were still traditions Talia followed._

_One was that no one was supposed to see her hair down._

_Kavar knocked on her door and hearing a "just a moment" call from inside waited just a moment and then opened the door. Talia was completely clothed and ready to leave; only her headdress had not been put on yet._

_She turned around and gasped. "You aren't supposed to come in," she told him, trying to be kind but direct in her scolding._

_Kavar smiled. "You said just a moment and it's been just a moment. Wait any longer and you will be late, milady. And why does it matter? It's not like you're undressed or anything."_

_Talia put on her headdress and adjusted it, leaving silence in the room for a few moments before she spoke. "It is traditional for the Queen to never wear her hair down in public, or in front of anyone that is not family."_

"_Well, I guess you'll just have to rewrite the rule so that it only applies to everyone outside the court," said Kavar. "I am your advisor, and I advise you to do that."_

"_At least you have a sense of humor, as opposed to my last advisor," said Talia, grinning despite herself. "I guess I simply will have to do that. Now, let's go. We have a meeting to attend."_

XxXxX

"_News reports have come crashing in with multiple stories concerning the latest scuffle for Onderon. Since yesterday, nobody has seen either Queen Talia or General Vaklu in public. Security guards within the palace claim that General Vaklu has been killed. There is a great controversy over how General Vaklu has perished if such a statement is true. Many people believe that Vaklu died a martyr, but the majority of Onderon, including many who believed that Vaklu should have been the rightful ruler of Onderon, believes that General Vaklu was killed for a good reason. Later today, it is said that we will see Queen Talia back out in public again. She has decided to grace us with a statement…"_

Talia blinked at the hologram as it was turned off from behind her. Turning around to scold the guard who decided to tell her it was time to get ready for a public appearance, Talia was a little surprised to see Kavar and his former student, a young woman by the name of Tera Lond, waiting for her attention.

Talia stared at the young woman, a tinge of slight dislike hidden in her gladdened eyes. Despite all the help that the woman, the _Exile_, had done for her, Talia was still not sure she had done the right thing in executing Vaklu right away. She had feared she would make him a martyr, and to some that's what she had done. But something in the Exile's voice… there was just something that could not stop Talia was taking her advice. There was something else about the student's relationship with her advisor that unsettled her…

But as for Vaklu's death, Talia had learned long ago that as a politician she wasn't going to get everyone on her side. Just as long as she had the majority, she would do fine.

"Yes? You are leaving today, aren't you, Tera?" asked Talia, standing up to greet her guest. She shot Kavar a slightly annoyed look, bringing in that guest without so much as a warning. Though Talia was dressed in proper clothes, her hair was loose, the brown strands falling freely around her face. Kavar seemed to have a habit of catching her unawares, her hair loose. Maybe he intended to do that.

The young woman nodded. "I have to be on my way. My group and I have yet to travel everywhere we had planned to, milady." She smiled. "But I am glad that we have crossed paths."

Talia smiled back at her. "I am glad we have crossed paths as well or else Vaklu may have usurped this palace from me and we would not be here. I wish you luck on your journey and you are welcome here if you ever need a place to stay."

A guard knocked on the door and Talia nodded at him. "Now, if you two will excuse me, I have to go prepare to announce to my people that their once beloved General is dead." She smiled at the Exile as she and Kavar both gave the Queen a little bow. Talia would leave them to say their own good-byes.

Twenty minutes later, Talia heard another knock on her dressing room door. She was putting her headdress on, adjusting it slightly, as she called for the person to enter.

"So she left?" asked Talia, standing up to greet Kavar.

"Just a few moments ago, her and the rest of her mismatched crew," replied Kavar, standing with his arms crossed and face set. "Talia…" he began slowly, but then trailed off. Talia gave him an urging look and he continued. "I have something to take care of. The Exile is trying to rebuild the Jedi Order. I did not tell her everything she needed to know, and I have to go… she needs to know the truth. Then, perhaps, the future of the Jedi Order will be properly determined. But not until she knows what a danger she is to the galaxy."

"A danger?" asked Talia, disbelieving. "I admit she's a talented fighter and on the wrong side she could do a lot of damage, but what can one woman do to a galaxy?"

"There's a lot more to it than is natural," replied Kavar, beginning to pace slightly. "Anyways, I have to leave for awhile. I have to ask your leave."

"What are you going to tell her? Are you going to tell her she's a threat?" asked Talia, still not understanding Kavar's motives for leaving. "Are you going to stop her from being a threat?"

Kavar stopped moving. "I hope so," he whispered.

Talia understood now. "Are you going to hurt her?" He was silent. "Kavar, you can't! You said yourself that she is one of the last known Jedi in the galaxy; if she is killed there will be none of you left, and what will that do for your Order?"

"Whatever is done, she has to be confronted. She had to be told," insisted Kavar. "I will return as your faithful advisor, I'm sure, whether or not the Order is restored. I will return, Talia," his voice was a bit softer now, "I promise."

Talia shook her head. "Just don't get hurt."

Kavar laughed, his face lighting up somewhat. "I don't plan on it. As far as I know she found two of her other former masters. I think the three of us can handle her. We had to do it when she was a child and we'll do it now that she's an Exile."

"I don't like what you're planning to do," said Talia bluntly. "But… I wish you luck."

"There is no luck," commented Kavar wryly. "There is the Force."

Talia smiled. "Right. You're a Jedi. May the Force be with you, Master Kavar."

"And may the Force be with you, Queen Talia." He walked over to Talia and bowed his head. "Especially as you are about to go face a world full of people who are watching your every move. Especially as you go win your people back. You have to face your people. I have to face mine. I have to go."

Talia did not speak. One word repeated over and over again in her mind: _don't_… but Talia didn't see a point in saying the word. Kavar was stubborn. It was not like he would've stayed if she asked him to. She could only hope that he would return, unharmed, everything settled.

Kavar bowed once again to Talia, his hands reaching for her right. He kissed her hand gently, turned around, and left the room. It distressed Talia to think he may not return.

But she was optimistic and believed he would. She simply smiled at his retreating form and watched a few minutes later as a small one person craft lifted into the skies, breaking through the cloudy skies.

Days went by and Onderon went back to how it was before the conflict between Talia and Vaklu had really erupted. There was still tension everywhere but it was repressed and most people did not care that Vaklu was dead… well they didn't care enough to do anything besides gossip and rant.

Two months had passed since Tera Lond and Master Kavar had left Onderon. Queen Talia had found a new head advisor for the time being, a woman by the name of Junta Wein. She wasn't as direct in what she had to say as Kavar and agreed a little too much with everything Talia said, but she wasn't a bad advisor, she was simply not as experienced as somebody like Kavar whose life centered around solving diplomatic affairs.

"_Breaking news reports that a ship moving from Dantooine to Telos was a beacon for a large fleet of ships, rumored to be none other than the Sith, bringing what some may believe to be the doom of Telos, an already nearly dead planet. The ship is supposedly the same ship that the infamous Darth Revan was rumored to have used five years ago, the Ebon Hawk. No further news is known on the condition of Telos. Check back here, on The Galactic News Channel, for further information on this within the hour."_

Talia hadn't even been in the room for the last minute of the report. She was already trying to find Junta and arrange to send as many Onderonian troops as possible to help the Exile.

"And as soon as the situation has calmed down enough," instructed Talia, walking side by side with Junta and Iun, her military advisor, "Get the Exile to holo me here. I need to speak with her about what happened and I don't feel much like waiting hours to hear what TGNC has to say."

_What happened with Kavar and the other masters?_ thought Talia to herself as she walked back towards her dressing room. It was late night on Onderon and she was ready to get into bed. To sleep was a whole different matter. She told her guards that if Junta or Iun had come with any news to wake her up and let them in.

This would be one occasion Talia didn't care if her hair was loose and her face free of make-up to speak with anyone outside of her court.

Talia sat in bed, thinking to herself about all the different possibilities for what may have happened for nearly three hours before a knock came on the door. She got out of bed and opened the door. Junta was there, informing her that the Exile had a few spare moments to speak with her.

"I was expecting to hear from you sooner," said the Exile. She looked grim through the holographic representation of her figure. She was no longer wearing the robes she had worn in Talia's palace; instead she was wearing armor that was scratched in several places.

"What happened on Dantooine to usher you to go to Telos?" asked Talia.

The Exile smiled grimly. "That is a little personal to explain, but I know what you want to know. You want to know what happened to Master Kavar." Talia nodded and the Exile sighed. "I am sorry, milady, but my newest enemy took the life energy of Master Kavar and two other former masters of mine."

"He took the life energy from him?" asked Talia. She had never heard of such a thing happening, and she had certainly heard some strange stories.

"She, actually," corrected the Exile. "In other words, he's dead. They're all dead."

Talia froze. Only for a split second. Then her face resumed its diplomatic appearance from before. "Oh." She didn't know what else to say. "I will let you get back to your battle now. May the Force be with you, Exile."

"I'm sorry," said the Exile as Talia had turned around to walk away. "For your loss."

Talia turned around and smiled at the bluish glow of a woman. "It wasn't my loss. It was the galaxy's loss. Now, good-bye, and I hope to see you again. Alive."

The Exile gave a small smile and the hologram ended. Talia turned away from the dissipating hologram and assembled a calm exterior.

"I will retire now. Keep track of all updates from Telos and report them to me when I wake up. Don't disturb my rest though, I need it," instructed Talia. Junta nodded, accepting the instructions and walking away. Junta was supposed to be a temporary replacement. Apparently she would be a permanent replacement now.

Talia tried to sleep easy, but the same question plagued her mind all the while as she tried to sleep. _When did I fall in love with him?_ There was no other reason that could explain the loss and emptiness she felt at hearing of Kavar's death._ Why did I fall in love with him?_ would probably be a better question to ask. As for when…

Perhaps it had been the day she had taken him on as her advisor. He had been around for nearly 5 years now. He had arrived unannounced and sat in the library for days after days. After two weeks of Kavar sitting in the royal library, reading books, Talia sent one of her servants to bring him something to eat. The servant did this for months under Talia's command. It didn't take long for Kavar to come and thank Queen Talia herself.

Eventually, Talia's advisor was fired. Kavar had heard of this and told Talia that he would be delighted to be her new advisor. How could she refuse? He was a Jedi, intelligent and surely bold enough to be a good advisor. Perhaps that afternoon, when he had walked in and seen her with her hair down, not so much of a rarity from that point on, she had first really began to fall in love.

He was someone she could talk with about more than politics and small talk, and he was always around when she needed to talk to him. Maybe that was when, when she had first really had a conversation with him. When she lowered her defenses around him. She was always unafraid to everyone else. But to Kavar, she didn't have to hide behind a veil of self-confidence.

Talia laughed at herself in the dark of her bed chambers. It's not like it could have worked out anyways if he had lived. She was acting like a silly little girl. Queens did not act like silly little girls. But there was always that look in his eyes when he made her laugh, made fun of her fellow diplomats in a low tone while the rest of the diplomats thought he was simply giving her advice. Talia scoffed. Such things mattered no longer. Kavar was dead and she was still alive and Queen. She'd feel better once she got some sleep.

Too bad she didn't sleep that first night.

XxXxX

SOOOO much love to MissCora, or AnnaCora here on for beta-ing this ficcy. Also, unless you've already seen it over on kfm, I GREATLY recommend that you go visit kotorfanmedia and check out the beautiful piece of art Cora put together for the DCC #21 over there: Supporting Characters. It's all because of her that we got first place. :) Yay for Cora, the most amazing EVER!


	14. Coup D'etat

Title: Coup D'etat  
Genre: Action/Adventure  
Main Character(s): Malak and Revan  
Rating: T/PG-13  
Disclaimer: _As usual, kotor and all related characters and such and such does not belong to me._  
Date written: July 28, 2006

_Forewarning: Strong language and violence are contained in this fic. Nothing beyond PG-13, and I hope it doesn't restrain you from reading the fic, but I think I should warn you beforehand just in case you are one of those who prefer to avoid violence and language._

_Great big thanks for noneko for beta-ing. She did a fantastic job, so the fic wouldn't be as nice as it is (presuming it's nice) without her help. :)_

XxXxX

**Coup D'etat**

XxXxX

Too long. He had been waiting too long. He glanced at his chronometer, knowing that if his other companions didn't show soon he'd have to go on without them. They didn't have that much time. And time was key.

His lip snarled in frustration as his right hand massaged the lightsaber hanging from his belt impatiently. _What's taking those frackers so long?_

A gasp nearly escaped the impatient man's lips as he felt a group of presences approach him in the darkness. He could feel them through the Force before he could get a look at them. Nine companions in all, clad in black robes, a few with dark tattoos or other things painted on their faces. A glowstick was lit and Malak caught a good look at their faces. A few were smirking, but most had hard, resolute looks on their faces.

"Are we late, Malak, or do you always look this nervous?" asked one of the smirking Dark Jedi.

Malak growled angrily and tapped his index finger on his lightsaber. The sound could be heard among the light breathing of the ten men and women in the dark corridor. Malak laughed. "I'm not nervous, Javaan, I'm just trying to keep myself from killing you. I just hope that if Revan kills any of us, she'll take care of you in the most painful way possible."

The Dark Jedi named Javaan laughed again. "You know this is a suicide mission as well as we do," he told Malak, stretching out his arms casually in front of him, fingers locked.

"This is not suicide," hissed Malak, taking a step closer to Javaan so that he was nearly in the shorter man's face. Javaan could see Malak's pale brown eyes glowering at him, even in the darkness. Traces of yellow were etched in them, clearly a mark of how engrossed Malak was in the dark side. It was a frightening sight. Javaan did not let himself become intimidated though.

Javaan laughed again. A few of the other Dark Jedi were probably wondering how long it would be before Malak stuck him with his lightsaber. But Malak did nothing of the sort. "It's not?" asked Javaan. "Huh, could've fooled me."

"She knew this day would come eventually," stated Malak simply, crossing his arms and in the process finally taking his hand off his lightsaber. "The apprentice challenges the master, remember? Happens all the time."

"Yeah, and one of them dies," added Javaan. "I have a feeling that it's going to be you."

Malak, who had begun to turn away, froze, his hand in mid-gesture towards the other Dark Jedi. He turned back around, his lips thin, clearly frustrated with Javaan. If it had been any other day, under any other circumstances, Malak would've killed the man on the spot to teach a lesson. But he couldn't afford to kill one of his fellow fighters, not now. This was too important.

"If this is such a suicide mission," said Malak deathly quiet, "then why are you coming along? Think you're tough enough to survive this? Think Revan will spare you? Like hell she will, you know what she's like. You said it yourself. Tonight one of us will die, and I'm betting all my chips, I'm fracking betting my _life_ that it'll be her."

Javaan just kept smirking and shook his head casually. _Frack, this guy is infuriating_, mused Malak as his right hand fell back on his lightsaber.

"Maybe I've got a death wish," answered Javaan, crossing his arms and shifting his weight onto his right hip. "Maybe I just like killing things. Maybe I'm not afraid of death. Maybe I hate Revan's command. Why the hell do you care, Malak? As long as I'm here to kill as many of Revan's guards so you can get to her yourself, you shouldn't bother asking me any questions about my reasons for being here. I could ask you the same thing."

Malak rolled his eyes and groaned impatiently. He glanced down at his chronometer and didn't move for a moment. "Come on," he muttered, gesturing for them to follow him as he began to walk in the direction opposite of where Javaan and the other Dark Jedi had come from. "You were late. We don't have time for pointless conversation."

"That's right," hissed Javaan from behind Malak. "We've got a date with death to keep."

"Just fracking shut up!" whispered another Dark Jedi, a woman, sharply. "Nobody gives a rancor's ass about what you have to say, Javaan, let's just go and do this thing, alright?"

Malak could hear Javaan's chuckle from behind him. "Whatever you say, Rhiorda," murmured Javaan. "Whatever you say."

Javaan stayed silent as he, Rhiorda, and the other seven Dark Jedi followed Malak silently through the corridors of the upper levels of the Star Forge.

XxXxX

"_Tonight will be a night for betrayal, for new ownership," Malak had spoken earlier to a group of Sith he knew were against Revan's rule and supported him. Javaan and Rhiorda had been among them. At that point in time, Javaan's face had been a pale white. Rhiorda had been listening with a cool, determined air about her. Another Dark Jedi Malak was quite familiar with, Kuu, had his arms crossed proudly, a look of pure dedication on his face. Kuu fancied himself a future apprentice of Malak's._

"_Tonight, we will break the chains that Revan has bound on our wrists," Malak had said, his voice sharp and his eyes narrowed in resolve. "Revan has no reason to let us remain here while she plots our next move. We should be able to do as we wish for the good of the Sith Empire. We do whatever Revan says to and what do we get? Nothing! We don't even get to make our own choices. Not even I, her apprentice, get that luxury. So I say a new leadership is in order._

"_Tonight, I will strike down Revan and claim the title of the Dark Lord of the Sith for myself. Now… who's with me?!" Malak had ended in a shout of sorts. Cheers erupted from the ten or so Dark Jedi assembled and Malak swelled with pride. Finally, he could get the recognition he deserved… as soon as he disposed of his number one obstacle: Revan._

XxXxX

It was fairly silent aside from the low humming sounds created by the many machines on the Star Forge. The footsteps of the ten Sith were fairly quiet and in a light rhythm that nearly matched that of the humming machines. Their breathing was paced and it sounded like there couldn't actually be ten grown Dark Jedi hurrying their way to the bridge and the quarters that were located just off the bridge… the quarters in which Revan slept.

Late at night, Malak hoped that Revan would be sleeping. He couldn't be sure that she wouldn't wake up, or even that hope that she hadn't been informed of this coup, but he had to be prepared for anything. He swore to himself that the only way he'd be surprised by Revan would be if he came upon Revan in bed with that awful technician that had been repeatedly flirting with her lately. Surely, Revan would've taken care of such a fool, but then again she might be using him for informational purposes. It would be like her, not to waste such a potential resource.

Malak would've killed the brute right away, but that must have been due to their style differences. Malak gave no more thought to the matter than a strong belief that his method was the correct method.

They were getting close now. Straight down a corridor, a turn to the right and then a turn to the left would take them to the bridge. Right before the last turn, Malak would attempt to see if anyone was on the bridge, or at least anyone who wasn't adept at hiding their presence with the Force.

He moved quickly down the corridor, took the right, and then reached the end of that corridor. He held out his left hand to signal the Dark Jedi behind him to freeze. One was about to say something, ask Malak why they were stopping, but Malak snapped the Sith's mouth shut with his hand.

"I can't sense anyone," hissed Malak to the rest of the Dark Jedi, finally releasing his grip on the Sith's mouth. He stretched his jaw after it had been nearly crushed. "It may be a trap. She may have learned of our plan ahead of time. Regardless, we will continue. Don't stop fighting until we've won or you're dead."

Javaan shook his head behind Malak and chuckled again. "We're going to lose."

Kuu had stayed silent long enough. "Then you'll fracking die, alright?" hissed the dark-skinned man, his hood draped over his head. His teeth were blackened and he nodded his head at Malak. "You came along. You sacrificed your life voluntarily. There's always time for you to turn around and run back to your bed, crawl in, and pretend not to know anything about this. Of course, if we win, we'll kill you."

"Shut up, just because I'm pessimistic doesn't mean I'm not going through with it," muttered Javaan.

Malak turned his head around enough to give them all a look that clearly told them to shut their mouths. After complying with his wishes, the Dark Jedi were silent as they followed Malak around the last bend to the bridge.

XxXxX

"_Dark Lord of the Sith," whispered Revan, leaning her forehead on the arm that was on the viewscreen that showed the galaxy in front of them, and more closely the planet Rakata. "Dark fracking Lord of the Sith."_

_Malak watched from behind her with resentment etched into every part of his face. _Dark fracking Lord of the Sith indeed, _he thought bitterly to himself. He smiled as he planned out his future in his mind, fanciful images of him holding Revan at his mercy, his lightsaber at her throat, listening to her beg for mercy. Malak would torture her, make her beg soon after for death. But he would grant her no mercy. He would make her a part of the Star Forge, never let her rest._

"_What do you think, Malak?" Revan said as she turned around to face him. "Master and apprentice. Fitting, don't you think?"_

Like hell I think it's fitting, you fracking schutta, _he thought to himself. But shielding his thoughts and putting on a false smile of approval, Malak looked down at the much shorter woman in heavy armor styled after the Mandalorians' style of armor. "Of course, Revan. Very fitting, indeed."_

XxXxX

Malak gripped his lightsaber tightly as he activated it. He could see about a dozen of Revan's finest guards on the bridge, their lightsabers activating as Malak and his followers rushed onto the bridge. Malak yelled out in a battle cry. A few others followed suit, including Kuu.

And so the coup properly began.

Red and red clashed, the occasional purple and orange lightsabers joining the fray. Malak himself struck right for the heart of the closest guard, knocking him down with brute force and forcing the lightsaber straight through the Dark Jedi, a man he normally would've considered his ally. Tonight, all those who didn't fight with him would suffer. He would make sure of that.

"_Tonight will be a night for betrayal, for new ownership."_

Malak moved quickly towards another Dark Jedi, his face covered completely in yellow tattoos. He moved quickly, his double-bladed red lightsaber parrying every move Malak's single-bladed red blade made. Malak's opponent's technique seemed perfect, but he was also small and Malak was a large man. It was a battle of nimbleness versus power. Malak took the opportunity that arose when the smaller man had to parry Malak's strike from above his head, leaving himself open. Malak took the chance and slammed his shoulder in the other man's chest, knocking him off balance, Malak took this advantage and sliced off both of the man's arms before decapitating him.

All around the room, cries were heard as men and women shouted "For Malak!" or "For Revan!" Some took another route and simply cried out "For the Sith!" not showing who they believed would make a better Sith Lord out loud, but knowing in their hearts who they trusted to make the better decisions, with whose strategies they agreed.

Javaan was cockily challenging two guards at once. Rhoida had already fallen in battle; her chest contained several holes in it, considering that the guard who had struck her didn't believe she was dead until she was down on the ground, unmoving. Kuu was mimicking Malak's movements, being nearly as big a man as Malak was.

But Malak had to have been the most admirable of all the fighters. Revan's guards were not untalented wenches and men without skills, whereas some of Malak's followers were simply men and women who chose to die for their dedication to Malak. Or, perhaps as Javaan had suggested, they simply wanted to die.

"_Tonight we will break the chains that Revan has bound on our wrists."_

Malak kicked out both his legs at an oncoming enemy, his left leg nearly getting cut off by the outstretched lightsaber in the now knocked-down male guard's hands. The lightsaber deactivated as it flew away from the guard's hand. "Bastard," muttered the guard right before Malak struck at the man's throat. Malak kicked the dead body to the side as held up his lightsaber to block another oncoming opponent.

_Shit, she called for reinforcements,_ noted Malak as six more guards ran into the room filled with dead bodies. And then there was Malak, Javaan, and Kuu standing in the midst of the room. All the other Dark Jedi on Malak's side had already fallen.

"Want to take me down, tough guys?" challenged Javaan, wiping a trace of blood away from his mouth where had been punched before he killed the guard who owned the fist. "Take your best shot, bastards." And with that Javaan leapt forward, twin red 'sabers in hand, screaming nothing in particular as he landed in the midst of two guards, decapitating one while the other managed to parry his second lightsaber. Javaan engaged in a duel with the guard as Kuu hung back, waiting for a guard to come and challenge him with his double-bladed purple lightsaber in hand.

Malak ran ahead of Kuu, shouting as Javaan had as he reached the remaining four guards. One ran past him towards Kuu, but the other three decided to attempt taking down Malak. An unfinished cry of "Long live Mal-!" that came from Kuu's mouth signaled the ambitious young Sith's death. Javaan was still alive, fighting madly against the guard with his twin 'sabers, however, while Malak fended off three guards at once.

"_Tonight, I will strike down Revan and claim the title of the Dark Lord of the Sith for myself."_

It was difficult, fighting off five blades with a single one, but difficultly was for other men. A man without Malak's strength. Using the Force, Malak reached out with his left hand to choke one of the guards while using his right hand to knock back the other two guards with a rather weak Force push. They stumbled backwards but Malak didn't have enough time to finish off the choking guard and had to simply let the man catch his breath while Malak dealt with the other two guards.

Malak ran away from the two guards, towards the corner of the room. He knew what the two guards must've been thinking, because under opposite circumstances, he would have been thinking it himself. How could he be so incredibly stupid as to lock himself into a corner like that? Malak smirked to himself though as the two guards approached (the third still gasping for air, barely having escaped death for the moment). Their wrongful assumption would be the last thing they ever knew. As soon as they got within a meter of him, Malak gave a great shout and a leap over their heads and slashed his lightsaber across the mid-section of one guard. He fell to the ground, breaking into two pieces. It was rather grotesque, but then again there were already nearly two dozen dead bodies on the ground so another corpse was no real deal.

The Sith knew death would come to all of them, and when it did, it was something they learned early on and either embraced or ran from. For the men and women who had died during Malak's struggle for power, well, that simply happened to be when death came for them.

"Fracking imbecile!" shouted the guard next to Malak to the guard just beginning to get back up on his feet across the bridge. "Can't even handle a little pain!?" Javaan was still busy with the third living guard near the entrance to the bridge.

"Lock down the doors, Javaan!" shouted Malak to his only remaining companion. "Don't let anymore reinforcements come in! I'd like to deal with Revan herself, not her stupid minions."

Javaan heard Malak and gave an affirmative cry as he stabbed the door control station on the inside of the bridge with one lightsaber while he continued to parry his enemy with his other 'saber. Malak grinned. They could still win. Javaan didn't seem like he was giving up, not yet. It was two to three. And when Revan joined them, and she would, Malak was sure he could defeat her.

"_Now who's with me?!"_

It didn't take much longer for Javaan to finally kill off his enemy and for Malak to destroy the other two guards. But the real challenge hadn't even begun yet. Javaan was favoring his right leg and had a scorch mark on his left leg which showed that he was in no condition to battle Revan, much less anyone else. Malak would have to do it alone.

He grinned. The thought excited him, to face his master, lightsaber to lightsaber; Master versus apprentice. The way it should be.

She appeared with the light tap of her boots as she walked onto the bridge. She wasn't clad in her usual full armor, but instead what appeared like it was surely the inner shell of her usual armor. She looked wide awake, despite it being the middle of the night and her usual sleeping hours. Her face was crackled with veins in numerous locations along her jawline, but to someone like Malak she still appeared more beautiful than ever. A more dangerous beautiful, a deadly, disgusting sort of beautiful only some could appreciate. Her eyes glowed yellow in the darkness of the bridge. She stepped gracefully over the corpses strewn around the bridge. She was within three meters of Malak when she stopped moving.

He couldn't help but notice the way her under-armor hugged her gorgeous curves. Her hands were covered in black gloves, her jet-black hair was pulled back into a bun on the back of her head and her pale skin that was only visible on her face seemed to illuminate her.

Revan smiled, an eerie smile, nothing like the polite smile a Padawan gives to their Master when issued a task or command. Then the smile faded into a blank expression.

"So, you have decided to finally let your rage out and aim it at me, Malak?" asked Revan. Malak didn't answer and Revan didn't expect him too. She looked around the bridge and her eyes roamed over the dead bodies. "Kuu… he was so determined to live through this little coup of yours and become your apprentice if I remember correctly. And Alder, a personal favorite guard of mine. He was very talented." She looked up at Malak and gave him the same eerie smile she had worn as she had entered.

"Your rage is admirable, your anger and fury are beautiful things, but directing them at me…" she trailed off as she spotted Javaan standing near the doorway, his mouth slightly open as he stared at Revan looking so casually, at this woman so fatally attractive. Revan had no patience for Javaan, however. "When you see the devil, you can gape at him too," hissed Revan as she struck out her right hand, an open palm, and lifted Javaan's body into the air. She then clenched her hand into a fist and Javaan's body seemed to collapse inwards with a disgusting snapping noise.

Revan dropped Javaan's broken body to the ground. "So you're here to kill me?"

"I'm here to take this power away from you," spat Malak angrily. His eyes narrowed as she turned back to him. "You never deserved it! We were equals, until we arrived here, and then you decided you wanted to be in charge. Well, Revan, we played this game for a little while, but right now it's no longer your turn to be in charge around here. Your power will be mine."

"Long-winded as always," said Revan icily. "The power and leadership around here is something I do deserve, Malak. If you want to try and defeat me, however, be my guest. You will fail. This coup today? You lost your faithful followers and now it's just you and me."

"I will crush you!" shouted Malak as he ignited his lightsaber and rushed towards Revan. Smirking, Revan pulled out her red lightsaber, nearly a twin to Malak's.

A dance begun between the two, Revan moving swiftly around Malak's strong blows and fighting back just as aggressively as Malak was fighting. Occasionally one would attempt to strike the other with lightning or use the Force to drag some item lying around to harm the other with. But all of those attempts failed.

They moved and moved and both were sweating, their foreheads glistening with perspiration. Malak would attempt to knock Revan down with his strength but despite her smaller size, she was just as strong as Malak with her practical uses of the Force. She did not fight just defensively, however, finding herself knocking Malak back on his heels more than once.

The battle continued, for how long neither was sure. Nothing changed in the area around them, they moved all around the bridge, and they avoided tripping over any of the corpses. Revan kept staring at Malak's eyes, but he knew what she was trying to do. He knew she was trying to get inside of his mind, use Malak as a weapon, to control his mind and confuse him, something Malak knew she could do.

"GRAH!" exclaimed Malak as he squeezed his eyes shut to try and block Revan out of his mind. He reached out with the Force to parry Revan's blows and fighting back against her. "I won't let you use me as a tool, you stupid schutta!"

Revan snarled as Malak had to take another step backwards. "You won't win, Malak! Not this time, maybe not ever. I am the Dark Lord of the Sith! Me! Not you!" she hissed. Malak continued to keep his eyes shut tightly, refusing to weaken himself. Revan struck out with her lightsaber at Malak's side.

"I'll fix that shortly, Revan," he muttered back at her, blocking her blow in the process. He swung his own lightsaber at her legs.

"Face me!" growled Revan, as she leapt over Malak's lightsaber and his body as well, landing gracefully behind him. "Face me, you coward! Only cowards hide themselves, whether it be behind a planet or behind their own eyelids. Show yourself to me! You fracking bastard, show yourself!"

"I'M RIGHT HERE!" screamed Malak, her egging getting at him. He twirled around to face Revan, opening his eyes in the process. He knew it was a mistake the moment he did it, knowing that she was just trying to get a rise out of him. And it worked.

Malak could feel her inside his mind almost immediately. He tried to close his eyes, but he couldn't. Revan just stood there, her yellow eyes blazing as she stared straight through Malak's eyes and delved right into his mind. As soon as she had settled herself in there, no matter how much Malak blinked, no matter if he ripped his eyes out, Revan was now safely nestled inside his consciousness. She leapt at him, screaming as her lightsaber clashed with his.

_Back up slowly, shuffle backwards, don't step over anything…_

No there are dead bodies! I'll trip over them!

_Do it! I command you to obey! I control you! Now fracking do it!_

Malak tried closing his eyes, knowing it wouldn't work. He felt his feet shuffling backwards and his body falling backwards over Kuu's corpse. His grip on his lightsaber lessened and using the Force, Revan threw Malak's lightsaber to the side. Malak was helpless on the ground, and immobilized by Revan's usage of the Force.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk." Revan circled around him, like a hawk and its prey. "You really shouldn't let your ego get in the way. Just couldn't stand being called a coward." She smiled as she leaned down and batted her eyelashes in a way that would have been seductive had they been in any other position than this.

Malak had a few choice words for Revan, but considering he was frozen, he couldn't speak them.

"I could kill you, but then you wouldn't learn anything from this experience," explained Revan as she deactivated her lightsaber and clipped it onto her belt. "So, I will simply have to find another way of punishment. I am sure I can think of something."

She was still, kneeling over Malak, her hands inching themselves closer and closer to his face. And then it was incredible. A extravagant pain seared through Malak's jaw, through his throat, though his mouth. He tried to scream, he desperately wanted to scream, but he couldn't. No noise came from his mouth. And then Malak could see it as Revan lifted it into the air with her hands. It was his jaw.

She had ripped out his fracking jaw.

"I think that punishment will suit you well," commented Revan, the same eerie smile on her face. "Now, I will let you lie here for the night, and don't even dare trying to come after me and kill me in my sleep because you will die then. If you want to live, I suggest you stay here until morning. I'm sure the cleaning crew will bring you to the medical bay and let them deal with you there."

Revan began to trail out of the room, rather pleased with herself. "Sweet dreams, Malak."

XxXxX

"_And in the end, as the darkness takes me, I am nothing."_

XxXxX

_I would love it if you reviewed, whether or not you enjoyed the story (even though I'm rootinf for the 'I enjoyed it!' angle). Concrit is love, flames are the devil, and I would like the credit the character Javaan is based off of (he's a small-charrie from an RP) to Kitome who created the name, PhantomMenade who introduced the character and MissCora who played Javaan. Except, it's not the same Javaan 'cause this one's deaded and the other one is alive about ten years after this incident. XD Loads of love again to noneko for her beta-ing skills. And THANK YOU for reading this. I apologize if it seemed too long and I really hoped you enjoyed it. :3_


	15. Only In Pazaak

Title: Only In Pazaak  
Genre: General/Angst  
Main Character(s): Mission Vao and T3-M4  
Rating: K/G  
Disclaimer: _Wanna do the 'not mine' dance with me? dances and chants 'not mine, not mineeee'_  
Date written: August 25, 2006

XxXxX

"'Mission, you should stay here. There are things here bigger than you can handle.' Yeah, right, like always they just want to keep me out of their way. They just don't trust me. 'Mission stay here, Mission don't move, Mission don't shoot unless I tell you to,'" mimicked the Twi'lek in a high-pitched voice.

The _Ebon Hawk_ was too quiet for Mission's tastes. She was lying sideways on a chair in the main hold of the ship, the only noises being the soft creaking of the ship was the winds of Kashyyyk blowing against it.

"Just because I'm the youngest doesn't mean I'm a baby, but no, Trey and Bastila and Carth all insisted I stay here while they go out there and have all the fun." Mission crossed her arms and pouted her lips. "Even Zaalbar told me to stay here," she muttered under her breath. "Then they all go out, Juhani too, and then Canderous wanders off on his own, and they just leave me alone here. Some shipmates. I might as well not be able to talk with the impact my words have on them."

Mission continued to grumble under her breath for several more minutes, having already spent an hour trying to entertain herself with things around the ship. Nobody had anything interesting to look at, mostly just boring datapads full of useless information. So it didn't take long before Mission ended up brooding.

The only other occupant on the ship was the little astromech droid, T3-M4. Trey had insisted that T3 not let Mission out which had caused Mission to be bitter with the newly appointed Jedi.

"It's not like I can't handle anything that goes on out there," she continued to mutter. "I survived on Taris just fine before Zaalbar and with Zaalbar." Most of her mutterings became nonsensical fragments of sentences that no other person would have been able to understand, but since no one else was listening Mission didn't really bother trying to make sense.

Eventually, she drifted off into a light sleep that didn't last, not in small due to one of T3-M4's arms poking at Mission's legs draped over the chair.

"What, Z?" mumbled Mission, still half asleep as she felt the arm prod at her leg. "Ouch!" exclaimed Mission, bolting upright, as T3 prodded a bruise on her leg. She turned to see the astromech droid putting its arm away in its compartment. "What did you do that for?"

T3 let loose a series of beeps. Mission was no expert when it came to understanding droid language, but she had spent plenty of time around droids in the Hidden Bek base (they had a lot around to work on the swoop bikes) and could basically understand them.

"Why does it matter if I'm asleep or awake? You're like a miniature guard; you only need to wake me up if someone's attacking the ship," Mission said bitterly as she rubbed her leg gently. She moved around in the chair to sit up straight and felt a pain in her neck as she tried to move it. "Great. Just how long was I asleep anyways?"

The little droid gave a vague response that she hadn't been asleep long but Mission had no clue if that meant twenty minutes or three hours. "Thanks for the specifics. So is anybody back from their little trips yet?" asked Mission, perking her ears, hoping to hear a voice or some footsteps.

T3 beeped a negative and Mission's face fell again. "They probably forgot about little Mish anyways," she spat. "They worry_ so_ much about keeping me safe and then they don't even think I'm important enough to comm and fill me in on the details."

An assortment of droid noises interrupted her mid-rant. Mission pulled on a confused face. "What do you mean that's why you woke me?" T3 elaborated on what he had already said and Mission's look of confusion turned to one of impatience. "Why didn't you tell me that Trey had commed me right away?" She got up quickly, her legs a bit sore from her previously odd position on the chair, but paid no mind to that as she jogged to the security room.

The ship's comm system was blinking, showing that it had a person with a call waiting for someone to answer. Mission pressed the button to answer and spoke into it. "Hello? Trey?"

"Mission, good, we're glad you're alright, I don't think the Wookiees are happy to have us here and I was afraid they might do something to the ship… and its remaining occupants." Trey's voice came through the comm system sounding weary and stressed. "T3 told me the ship was fine but I couldn't believe him that you were fine until I heard from you."

Though Trey couldn't sense what Mission was feeling, she hoped he might understand how confused she was. When he didn't continue, Mission decided to voice her confusion. "What are you talking about, Trey? Why wouldn't the Wookiees be happy? You're a friend of one of their kind."

"That's the problem," muttered Trey. "Look, Mission, we'll be back as soon as we can. Probably fairly soon, but I can't say for sure. I'll explain more when I get there."

"Trey, I think I deserve to know what's going on. What happened? Is there something wrong with Zaalbar?" But before any answers were given, Trey bid her good-bye and ended the comm. Even more annoyed than before, Mission practically threw herself down into the chair in front of the comm system.

"Fine, it's not like I care at all about what's happening. It's not like I can't understand anything, because, you know, I'm four-years-old, not fourteen," grumbled Mission sarcastically.

Mission heard T3 roll into the security room and he asked her about what Trey had said. "Nothing of any importance. He doesn't trust me with anything important," she muttered, her body in something of a ball in the chair. She unraveled herself and turned towards T3. "Hey, do you want to play a game of Pazaak?"

It would be something to occupy her mind, and playing a droid would be an interesting challenge for her. The droid said something about not having any credits and Mission laughed. "Don't worry; Republic Senate rules it is then." She pulled her sidedeck and the main deck out of her vest pocket. T3 went into a footlocker in the corner of the room and pulled out a sidedeck, claiming that it was Trey's.

"Oh, I know his sidedeck pretty well," said Mission offhandedly as she shuffled the cards. "He's got some good cards in there. Let's just see if you're as good as he is. Of course, as good as he is he's nowhere near me." Mission grinned as she began dealing. "If there's anywhere that nobody can judge me by kid standards, it's in Pazaak. It's nice to be able to be taken seriously for at least _one_ thing, even if it is a silly card game." She gave a half smile and sighed.

The first round went quickly and Mission won it. T3 wasn't as experienced as she was, even if he was a droid, and a rather intelligent droid at that. The second round took a little bit longer, but Mission won that game as well.

By the fourth game, Mission was grinning. T3 was giving her a real hard time. They both had two sets and they had tied twice in a row now, both times each having twenty. T3 had nineteen and had called and Mission had the same, nineteen. Her only sidedeck card left was a minus one card. After a few moments of consideration, she decided to go from another card off the main deck. It was a nine. Twenty five.

Mission shrugged. "Oh well, you were bound to win sometime,"

T3 asked her why she didn't just tie him and go onto another set.

"Something people on this ship seem to forget is that I'm allowed to take risks sometimes," she replied with another shrug. "Plus, it's not like I'm losing anything but my credibility as an undefeated Pazaak player."

Mission was about to deal out the next hand but T3 stopped her by asking her to elaborate on her first statement. "Well, I don't know that age matters among droids as it does among sentients, especially since newer models of droids seem to also be the ones to hold more intelligence, but all sentients seem to care about is how old they are."

T3 beeped in agreement. He mentioned though that a few older models of droids were actually better makes than the newer ones. He did make a sly comment about his own model being one of the best newer ones though. Mission chuckled.

"I don't consider being fourteen a bad thing, I find myself to be quite an adult at some points, but everybody else doesn't find me responsible enough to deal with any problems around here." Shrugging yet again, Mission continued, "It's not that they don't care, I was just hoping that since we're friends, comrades you know, they'd treat me like an equal. Not like a kid."

T3 pointed out that she was a kid. "Sheesh! I know I'm a kid!" exclaimed Mission angrily. "But I'm not naïve or stupid, I know how to shoot a blaster better than any farmgirl, I know how to spike computers better than half of the hackers out there, and so I was hoping that maybe _somebody_ could forget that stupid number. Fourteen. What a ridiculous number." Mission had calmed down a bit by the end and instead of sounding angry, she was just bitter.

"Trey doesn't have a right to boss me around anyways," continued Mission. "He's not my father." T3 asked her why she listened to him then.

"Because… well… I don't know." Mission forgot about being bitter and tried to think about it. _Maybe because I respect his opinion? Or maybe just because I like being told what to do. Maybe I like people caring enough about me to tell me not to do things. I don't know, T3. I don't like being told what to do, but you've got a point there. If I really didn't care about what Trey tells me to do, then why didn't I go with them anyways?_

Mission shrugged helplessly, deciding to not answer. "Stop trying to confuse me, T3," she said jokingly. "I've got to regain my credibility against you in Pazaak. I've beaten hundreds of players, even some that were cheating, and after they're done cursing, they've all told me that I'm good… and not just for kid standards."

T3 beeped rapidly, as if he was laughing. He then continued on to tell Mission that he hadn't played much Pazaak, but he was going to take her word for it. After all, he was a droid with advanced intelligence and had lost three of four games against her.

"Too bad it's only in Pazaak I get any respect," she muttered under her breath. "But that's the way things go, eh T3? Come on now, let's play."

The cards were dealt and before T3 bothered to look at his sidedeck, he watched Mission for a moment. He really wished he could show her the respect she seemed to crave so much, but he was only the droid. He wasn't the one Mission wanted respect from. T3 then looked down at his sidedeck and had he a mouth, he would've frowned. At least she could continue to beat him at Pazaak.

XxXxX

_Many thanks for MissCora and Jedi Valius both for looking over this and giving some awesome suggestions. :)_

_Third place, DCC #23, squee!_


	16. Smoking Buddies

Title: Smoking Buddies  
Genre: General  
Main Character(s): Mira and Atton Rand

Rating: K+/PG  
Disclaimer: _I wrote this, but I didn't create it! If you get my point. . No? Go burn in a hole then. XP_  
Date written: September 10, 2006

XxXxX

Mira was never really interested in smoking. Not like she had tons of money for it in the bounty hunting business. She was a good bounty hunter and everything, but she never made enough to have more than was necessary to pay rent and for food. She never starved but never had fancy vacations.

But after finding her way onto the Ebon Hawk, Mira felt more inclined to smoke, especially after she had spotted Atton doing it so much. Not really even watching Atton smoke made her more interested in it, but the relaxing scent the smoke gave off, so much different from the irritating cockbag Atton happened to be, enticed her.

She made it a habit to use some of the credits Zez-Kai-Ell had given her to buy cigarettes at each of their stops. Of course, the precious Handmaiden got angry with Mira and Atton when their smoke penetrated the air. Kreia, Visas, Mandalore, the Exile even, none of them cared much, but because the Exile respected the Handmaiden so much, he always told them to smoke outside or in the cockpit. The ship was so small that anywhere else you smoked, you could smell it all over the ship.

Mira didn't enjoy smoking when she was near Atton as much, but it had become such a habit over the past couple months that she really couldn't help but go up to the cockpit, sit down in the co-pilot chair and start smoking. She and Atton rarely spoke, sometimes played Pazaak, and usually just sat there, smoking.

The Exile had taken Visas and Kreia with him today, telling the others to remain behind, as they went out and explored Korriban.

"This planet is a pile of corpses, why a Jedi Master would come here of all places…" Mira trailed off, sitting in the cockpit with Atton. Because the planet with such a pile of corpses was the only reason Mira wasn't smoking outside today. Too bad the Exile hadn't taken the Handmaiden with him or else she could smoke in the main hold or the dormitory, anywhere really.

Atton just shrugged. That was something that always pissed Mira off about Atton. He really didn't give a shit about anyone else. He always seemed to piss everyone off, except the Exile. He pissed Kreia off with his mere presence, he pissed the Handmaiden off with his ongoing interrogations (and smell of smoke), and he just pissed Mira off with his attitude. He even pissed the little astromech droid off by calling it names and kicking it.

Mira took a drag of the cigarette in her hand and then realized she had reached the butt of it. She exhaled and then put the butt out on the dashboard. Atton grunted in a disapproving manner, but Mira ignored him and left it there, deciding that she really didn't care. She pulled out her cigarette pack and groaned. It was empty.

"Rand, you couldn't loan me any cigarettes could you?" she asked in a sweet voice, picking up the butt of her last cigarette and tossing it into the trash. She wiped the residue off the dashboard. Atton turned away from the window and looked at her.

"Are you screwing with me, Mira? Like I would give up my precious smokes to you for free," he muttered. "Especially after the way you treat my ship."

Mira scoffed. "Your ship. Right. Because you built it, you fix it, you found it, you bought it; all of those wonderful things."

"Sarcasm does not become you, Mira," tutted Atton, taking a drag of his cigarette and blowing the smoke out in her face.

"I'm just saying, it's not your ship. It's Mace's," clarified Mira, looking hungrily at the cigarette in Atton's mouth. When he ignored her, she rolled her eyes. "Oh come on, can't you be a nice guy this once and just let me have one stick? Usually we land on a planet where you can buy this shit, but considering Korriban isn't really overflowing with convenience stores, I need to smoke. And it's your fault anyways; it was your secondhand smoke that got me addicted."

It was Atton's turn to roll his eyes. "I'm always up here in the cockpit, Mira, so you had to have come up this hallway or hung around in the security room a lot to get addicted."

"Doesn't matter, I'm addicted and it's your fault," stated Mira matter-of-factly. "So I think that means you owe me at least three cigarettes."

Atton considered this for a second. Or at least he seemed to consider it. He always seemed so lost in his cigarettes when he was smoking them that Mira couldn't tell. That was another reason Atton pissed her off. She knew something was up with him, but unlike every other person she'd ever met she couldn't figure out what was up with him.

"How about a round of Pazaak?" offered Atton.

Mira quirked an eyebrow curiously. "And what do you get if I lose? Not that I will," she added quickly.

"Money. Credits. Duh. Just because you don't have smokes doesn't mean you don't have cash, which I'd be more than willing to take off your hands," explained Atton simply.

Mira really needed to stop always thinking of Atton as the sleaze ball she knew he was. It made her think of things she didn't even want to consider. The first thing that had jumped into her mind was that Atton wanted to see her naked. Of course, most guys that had ever seen her wanted to. And just because Atton preferred credits didn't mean he wouldn't be interested. But Mira wasn't interested, that was for sure.

Atton grinned. "What did you think I was going to ask you to bet? Your shirt?" Mira rolled her eyes. "It's called 'having the Force,' Mira," he added on with his worst wink, taking another drag of his cigarette. He was kind enough to exhale in the opposite direction of Mira this time instead of teasing her.

"Let's just play," muttered Mira, putting up heavier defenses around her mind. For a guy who sure hating other people poking into his business, Atton Rand sure was nosy.

"I'd be happy to," replied Atton, pulling out his sidedeck and a regular deck he always kept handy. Mira had played with Atton enough times and beaten him to know it was a fair deck, something she wouldn't have expected from Atton. Then again, Atton was stranger than Mira ever thought about. The only thing simple about him was his hygiene. It was bad and that was the end of that.

The game didn't go intensely or anything and Mira clearly had the upper hand throughout the game, in the end winning the four cigarettes Atton had bet against Mira's twenty credits.

"You know, I would be happy to play against you for your shirt," commented Atton as he handed over the goods and Mira pulled out her lighter. She gave him one of those looks.

"But what would I win? More cigarettes? Because as you are broke and I have no desire to see you stripping, that's your only betting bit. And to be honest, I would do many things for a cigarette, but stripping for you is not one of them."

"Ouch, Mira, you wound me."

"Just being honest here, Rand." Mira took a drag of the sweet cigarette. She felt herself instantly relax back into the seat. She tucked away her sidedeck, her lighter and the extra three cigarettes. The pair of smokers went back into silence.

"I wonder how long until they get back," Mira wondered aloud a few minutes later, breaking the silence. She was most of the way through her cigarette now, but feeling as though she was set for now. "I hope we don't have to spend more than just today here. This place gives me the creeps. It seems like a heaven for necrophiliacs." Mira shuddered in disgust.

Atton just shrugged. Mira rolled her eyes. Of course that would be his reply. If he wasn't going to some up with some wiseass crack, he would shrug his shoulders. Typical Atton Rand.

It remained silent for another few minutes. Atton seemed to be lost in his cigarette, not much of a surprise. Mira shifted in her seat and caught sight of him. He always looked so different when he was smoking silently than any other time. When he talked to other people he was either angry, lecherous, or snarky, with the only exception maybe being the Exile. But when he was smoking, he looked very peaceful. At least, when Mira had seen him smoke.

iI wonder what he's thinking,/i she thought for a moment and almost laughed, imagining Atton Rand thinking about the vast fields of Dantooine and frolicking through them, tra-la-la-ing through the grass. Mira slyly considered attempting to break into his mind, getting revenge for when he had read her mind earlier. Mira remembered Atton's reaction to when the Exile went into Atton's mind and he wasn't as angry as Mira had expected. Maybe he wouldn't care. Maybe he had nothing to hide.

Mira almost choked on her cigarette trying not to laugh. Atton Rand not having something to hide. And Mira was a fairy princess.

She closed her eyes and leaned back into her seat, casually holding her cigarette up to her lips, looking as though she was in some peaceful reverie like he was. She relaxed, the cigarette helping her, and began meditating. She felt the Force flowing through her and felt Atton's Force presence right next to her. Mira stretched her mind, reaching out with the Force to get a glimpse of what Atton was thinking about.

He was doing calculations. Fracking calculations for Pazaak of all things. Mira would've rolled her eyes but then she gave it a little thought. Of course Atton would be thinking about Pazaak, at least on the surface, it was something he was familiar with and generally fairly good at. But Mira could tell the difference between someone who was doing math in their head consciously and someone who was thinking about something more important. Mira knew people. Mira liked to think she knew Atton Rand.

Perhaps there was something more, something deeper. Mira stretched her mind further, tried to reach deeper, tried to figure out what Atton was really thinking about. She couldn't tell how much time it took – it could've been a minute or an hour – to see something more than Pazaak cards. She saw a glimpse of a woman. She saw the lightsaber on her belt… a Jedi woman. She could see hands stretched out, probably Atton's, and they reached for her neck. Then they stopped. The Jedi woman was speaking. Mira couldn't hear the words, only see her face. And then Atton walked away.

Suddenly, the images Mira had been seeing were overcome with Pazaak cards once again. She had been shot down, pushed out of Atton's mind. She didn't really care. She was just confused now. She couldn't recognize the Jedi woman and didn't really want to.

Had Atton been trying to kill the woman? Had she persuaded him to stop? Something seemed weird when Atton walked away in the… well… was it a memory? Almost as if Atton had made up that part, thought about it so much that it became the truth in his mind. Had he maybe not stopped and walked away? Had he killed her?

Mira opened her eyes and saw that her cigarette was finished with, ashes settled on her leather pants. She glanced over at Atton. To someone less observant than Mira, he wouldn't have seemed to have changed at all. But Mira could see a slight difference than before. He was frowning a little bit. But his eyes were still facing straight forward at the window and his cigarette was still in his mouth, being held there by two fingers on his right hand.

iIt's not like I really feel like taking the time to understand you anyways,/i thought Mira to herself as she stood up and headed for the doorway.

"Thanks for the cigarettes," she murmured and walked out of the cockpit, trying be sarcastic, but it just wasn't there.

Atton just shrugged. Typical Atton Rand. Or, typical Atton Rand that he was to everyone who didn't know him. Mira liked to think she knew him a little better than most, being his smoking buddy and such. She frowned as she walked out, glancing back one more time at Atton. Whatever was up with Atton, whatever he had done to screw up in his past, it was probably complicated and strange and well… very Atton-like. Whatever that was. Because, well frankly, Mira wasn't sure if anyone knew or possibly could know who Atton Rand really was.

He was like a puzzle. One of those 100,000 piece puzzles that take years or dedication and concentration to solve. Maybe he was just a guy who liked to sit in cockpits and smoke and mull about. Maybe he was that simple, but Mira doubted it.

iWhatever, Atton Rand, whatever,/i she shrugged.


	17. Balance

Title: Balance  
Genre: General  
Main Character(s): Revan and Exile  
Rating: K/G  
Disclaimer: _Even though it's very vague, the fact that it is Star Wars based means I don't own it!_  
Date written: January 24, 2007

xxx

_Never question it; it's too perfect._

xxx

"Doesn't something have to end for something new to begin?"

"It always seems that way, doesn't it." A pause. An exhale. Smoke filled the air. "Or maybe multi-tasking is just too much for people; especially when it comes to the 'big things.'" Another pause. An inhale.

"Perhaps, but everyone multi-tasks, even with the 'big things' – whatever those may be – people multitask. I mean, honestly, I just think it's the way things work."

"Maybe you're just looking for a reason." Another exhale. The cigarra is set down in the ashtray.

"Didn't you ever look for a reason?"

"It didn't take much looking, in fact, I might've preferred to have looked, maybe then I would've felt I had more choice in the matter."

"I think we're getting off track." A tense moment. "I just want to be sure that this is going to end someday too and that something new will start. Maybe something better."

"Didn't you learn anything in those history lessons with Atris and Dorak? Darkness may come, but it goes too, and the Light will always come back. Of course, they said that Light always prevailed, but you know better than that. Neither can ever prevail. Neither can exist without the other."

"So they'll just constantly replace each other." Nodding as a reply. "And in the case of light and dark, one has to end for the other to begin. And neither can truly exist together in the same place, though they both exist." Another nod. "This is such bantha fodder; what the frack did you put into my cigarra?"

A laugh. "You think you can only become introspective if I drug you? You were right the first time: something has to end for something to begin. Ignorance has to end to gain knowledge, weakness has to end to gain strength, lies have to end to gain truths. That's the way things work."

"So this thing we're doing, this beginning we're bringing for the galaxy, this new stage of darkness, it's ending something else, it's ending the Light?"

"Precisely."

"But eventually the Light will replace the Dark again."

"I know this."

"Then why even start a new beginning if it's going to end?" No response. "Wait, never mind, that's such a stupid question. I mean, you and I both know that one cannot survive without the other or else there is no Dark and there is no Light. And they cannot co-exist…"

"Go on."

"…So we're just continuing the cycle of existence."

A pause. "In a manner of speaking."

"Are you sure you didn't drug the cigarras?"

"You can reach this sort of enlightenment without any drugs, Exile, you just have to dig deep enough to discover the truth of the matter… to gain knowledge. And in doing so, from what you've learned, you're eliminating lies and ignorance."

"Force, this balance thing is so simple it hurts the mind."

"It is simply the way the galaxy exists. You comprehend one side by comprehending the other. You create one thing by destroying another. And you make new beginnings by creating ends."

The shuffling through robes for cigarras. A triumphant exclamation. The cigarra is lit and illuminates the face of the smoker.

"Well then, I suppose it's about time we end this." An inhale. An exhale.

A pause. A smile. "We have already begun."

xxx

_OOC – I don't know if it's obvious or not, but just so you know that's a DS Revan talking to a DS Exile. In my mind they're both female, but as it's never specified it's up to you. Sorry if you don't like the vague style of the fic, but it's what came into my mind and so I ran with it. Anyways, please leave comments, concerns, approval, disapproval, and especially constructive criticism to help._


	18. InDealing With Rejection and Abandonment

Title: In Dealing With Rejection And Abandonm,ent  
Genre: Drama/Angst  
Main Character(s): Carth Onasi, Juhani  
Rating: K+/PG  
Disclaimer: It's simple: not mine.

Date written: February 27, 2007

XxXxX

_How can she be so fracking calm after what happened? Revan has just taken off, leaving a fracking datapad behind, taking T3 and HK and the Ebon Hawk with her, and Bastila is just standing there. Damn Jedi._

"Can't you do anything?" Carth asked furiously. "Your bond thing with her, can't you use that to locate her with?"

"It's not some homing device, Carth," Bastila said. Her tone was calm, oh so fracking calm. How could she be calm? "And I can't communicate with her through it anyways. She's… she's cut me off." Finally an emotion. She sounded sad. Sad. Bastila. _Yes, Bastila is sad. She should imagine how I feel_, thought Carth. He couldn't stop pacing. Back and forth, back and forth. Pacing was predictable. Maybe that's why people did it when they were nervous: it was simple.

Carth shook his head. "There's nothing you can do then?" He glanced over at Bastila hopefully, but found no hope in her eyes. Bastila's gaze turned to the ground and she shook her head. It was quiet.

"I think I'll leave you for now, Carth." Bastila was attempting to soothe him. She wasn't succeeding. Carth was still pacing. "Look… we're meeting later. At the museum next door, it's a good place for some privacy and it's a convenient location." Bastila looked like she wanted to say more, but didn't. She left, closing the door quietly behind her. They usually congregated on the Ebon Hawk. With the ship gone, they had to meet somewhere else. The hyperdrive museum was an odd choice, but there was reasoning behind it.

After Bastila left, all Carth could do was sit down on his bed and try really hard not to cry. But the trying didn't really work. He was glad Bastila hadn't seen this part. She saw that he was angry, desperate, not how much this was hurting him. And it was really beginning to set in now. Revan wasn't the type of woman to change her mind. Carth had seen it coming, seen her trying to separate herself from everyone around her, but all he could do was hold on as tight as he could.

_I guess I didn't hold on tight enough._

Dawn broke over Coruscant a few hours later. Carth hadn't gone back to sleep but instead showered and dressed, ate some breakfast, drank some caffa, did a few exercises, anything to try and forget. But the datapad was sitting on the bed the whole time, glaring at him, taunting him, reminding him that Revan had left.

He had procrastinated as long as he could. Carth stared at the datapad again. He had read it too many times for the few words that were written there. But it was all he had left now, that and her scent on the pillow. He stuffed the datapad into his pocket and left the apartment.

Carth remembered visiting the hyperdrive museum when he was studying at the Academy. It was a requirement for one of his classes; they had to write an essay on one thing of interest in the hyperdrive museum. Unfortunately, most of the museum was boring and Carth ended up winging the assignment. He still passed the class though.

Bastila had been right about the museum being a convenient location. The Jedi Temple was close and Mission, Zaalbar, and Canderous were staying in the same building as Carth. And it certainly wasn't crowded.

Inside, Carth found the group congregated in a room dedicated to the history of star maps. How fitting. "Glad that you could join us," Canderous greeted the newcomer. "So what is this about, now that everyone is here? Who called this meeting anyways?"

"I did," Juhani stated simply. "I wanted to know if anyone was planning to try and go after her."

"I don't think she wants anyone going after her, Juhani," said Bastila. She still retained the same calmness she had from the previous night. "She cut off her bond with me and didn't tell anyone where she was going or even that she planned on leaving. She didn't even tell us she left. Well, most of us." Bastila glanced up at Carth. He couldn't tell, but was there a hint of jealousy in that look? It really didn't matter. Revan was gone. That was all that mattered.

"So basically we all gathered here for no real reason?" Canderous scoffed. "Well, if we're done here, I have better things to do than mope over our fearless leader dumping us."

"She didn't dump us!" exclaimed Mission.

Canderous chuckled. "Of course she did, kid. I'm not saying she hated us; she just didn't want us around. Too much baggage, you know?" Canderous gave a little wave over his back as he left the museum.

"I'm sorry sonny," Jolee said after Canderous had left. Carth looked up. The old man was looking at him. "I know you don't want to hear this right now, but I know how you feel. In a way, we all do. But I know what it's like to lose a woman."

Carth sort of grunted. Revan had told him about Jolee's past once, some time ago. He knew the old man's story. Carth would normally feel sorry for the old man, but right now he was too busy feeling sorry for himself.

Jolee looked as if he was going to pat Carth on the shoulder, but then thought better of it. He said good-byes to the rest and left. Mission and Zaalbar followed shortly after, Mission telling Carth: "Don't get too blue, alright?" Carth didn't really reply to her either, sort of forcing a smile.

He hadn't thought he was being a jerk beforehand, but when Mission looked slightly offended Carth offered a plain apology and decided that he would try a little harder to be nice. He watched the Twi'lek and Wookiee leave the museum and sighed. He knew that this group of friends would have to come to an end somehow, but Revan's sudden departure had sped up the goodbyes too quickly and it felt that as each of his crewmates left the museum, they were leaving Carth's life.

"Bastila." Juhani's voice interrupted Carth's thoughts. "You haven't detected anything of late that would imply where Revan was going?"

Bastila sighed. "To be honest, Juhani, Revan has been blocking me out for some time. She used to let me in all the time, but these past few weeks… well… I should have seen it coming…" she trailed off. She looked sad, very sad. After a pause, Bastila regained her calm and impassive composure. "I'm sorry, Juhani, I don't know where she is. Now, I think I'll be going back to the Temple. Are you coming, Juhani?"

Juhani shook her head. "I'll be back soon." Bastila hugged Juhani and then Carth before leaving. That left the Cathar and the soldier alone.

It was quiet for a few minutes. The museum was rather dead at this time of the day. No tourist groups were coming through and very few people were actually interested in the history of the hyperdrive anyways. Carth didn't exactly blame them; there were more interesting aspects of history.

"You know, Carth, part of me is somewhat satisfied at seeing you in pain over her." Juhani's words broke through the quiet like a bullet through flesh, and with the same ferocity.

"I appreciate that, Juhani," Carth muttered sarcastically. He looked up to face Juhani. Cathar were known for their temper and a Jedi Cathar was no exception. Juhani's eyes glared at him, ablaze with fury, despite standing at ease with her arms at her sides.

"It was really hard not to hate you," she continued, beginning to pace in a circle around Carth. Her eyes were turned forward now, not facing anything in particular. But Carth knew that her fury was directed at him, no matter where she looked. "Ever since I met her, I wondered how she could possibly choose me over you. And I knew she never would. But I couldn't help my emotions… I still wanted her as much as you wanted her. And as much as she wanted you." Juhani was practically spitting with hate. She eyed Carth every now and then as if she wanted to devour him, chew him up and spit him out.

Normally, Carth would've been surprised and acted as such. He was still surprised – he had never known how Juhani felt about Revan – but he didn't react. Juhani's words made Carth feel righteous in his anger at Juhani now. "Well then, why didn't you hate me? Trying too hard to be a Jedi? To try and please _her_? I know you miss her Juhani, but imagine how I feel."

"No! You will not tell me to imagine how you feel!" Juhani wasn't shouting, but her words were filled with such venom that if she had shouted Carth was sure he would've actually been poisoned. "I wish I could feel like you feel! Imagine how I feel Carth! Imagine the rejection and then imagine it twice. Not only did she rebuke my love for her, she ran away from me! She left me behind!"

"She left me behind too."

But Juhani was shaking her head. "At least she loved you. At least you were able to hold her, at least she let you love her. But not me, not me who did so much for her, who had fallen so far and risen so high only to not get what I wanted! What I deserved!"

"Look, Juhani, I'm not sorry Revan chose me, but I am sorry she hurt you," Carth said, trying to calm the Cathar down. He was almost afraid that Juhani might turn her lightsaber on him. She was angry enough to. "I can't do anything about it, okay? I understand that you're in pain, but that doesn't mean that I'm not! We're both suffering here!"

"But I'm suffering more! I'm hurting more! And I have nothing to console me, no memories, no datapad," the fury was dripping away from Juhani's words and instead of angry, she looked as if she was about to break down and cry now. She had stopped circling Carth and was now standing in front of a holographic timeline of star maps. "I didn't get the luxury of being told my beloved was leaving, but you did. And I'm trying very hard not to hate you for that, but I don't know if I can help myself."

Carth sighed. He was upset, he was tired, he was hurt, he was angry, and he couldn't deal with Juhani's rage right now. But she was here, and she was angry and she was hurt and she was upset. "Look, Juhani, I can't do anything! None of us can! Obviously you're upset, but yelling at me isn't going to do any good. Hating me isn't going to do any good. Wanting revenge isn't going to do any good. That's something Revan taught me. She taught you that too, didn't she? With Xor?"

Juhani's eyes darted down to the ground in shame. "I'm sorry, Carth. You're right. She may not love me like she loves you, but I should respect her friendship. I… I'm upset. Can you blame me? Don't we always want to blame someone else when something's wrong? And… I don't want to blame her. I can't blame her. There has to be a reason why she left."

Juhani was right. There had to be a reason. "Maybe… maybe one day we'll know. Maybe one day she'll tell us. She'll come back."

"Did she write that in the datapad?" spat Juhani.

Carth reached into his jacket pocket and drew out the datapad. Right now, it was the only physical thing Carth could hold on to that would connect him to Revan. "Here," he said, tossing the datapad to Juhani. "You can see it for yourself. There's not much there."

"'Carth, I'm sorry. I love you. Good-bye. Revan.'" Juhani read. "It's more than nothing. More than what I got. All she ever gave me was a broken heart."

"And you think mine is in one piece right now?" asked Carth. "I'm surprised at you, Juhani. I thought you'd know pretty well that there's more to a person than what physical things they give you. A handshake, a hug, a kiss, they're all well and nice."

"But she gave us more than that," interrupted Juhani, nodding her head. "She gave us memories, taught us lessons, helped shape us. She fought enemies I didn't think could be fought. She fought my past, and yours. She brought me hope. And a future."

"All we can do is hope she'll come back and bring us everything she is to teach us and guide us again. She loved us, Juhani. She loved all of us." Juhani didn't look at Carth, only nodded. "She wouldn't abandon us for nothing. She wouldn't say good-bye if she thought she wouldn't get a chance to again."

Juhani looked up at Carth now. "How can you be so certain or these things? How can you not feel betrayed?"

"I do feel hurt and upset and I don't understand now… but I don't think I've ever understood everything she did," Carth replied. He forced a small smile onto his face. "I don't know why she left, but I'm going to try and trust that she'll tell me."

"She has earned that." Juhani sighed. "I apologize for my words again. I should not punish you out of my jealousy. I think it is time I returned to the Temple now."

"Goodbye, Juhani." Carth watched as Juhani left his life too.

Carth sighed heavily as he made for the exit a few minutes later. Despite his reassurances to Juhani, Carth didn't really believe himself; he didn't believe that everything would be alright. He doubted Juhani completely believed him either. All he could do was hope. He would wait long as it took Revan to come back; no matter if it took a week or a decade, he'd wait. She was worth it.

XxXxX

_DCC #28: Love Sucks - Third Place! Whoo!_


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